Highland Sanctuary

by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

  "Gunna!" Her voice broke into a sob, her shoulders shaking. "I'm so sorry."

  Her weeping tore a gut-wrenching hole inside Gavin. He longed to comfort her as he slid from his horse. Both Iain and Tomas wore similar expressions of discomfort. Gavin understood their concern. There was naught any of them could do. This kind of pain could only be diminished with time and God's mercy and grace. He couldn't take it away, but he could be there for her and that he would do.

  Gavin went to stand on one side of her, Iain on her other.

  "Serena, I'm right here with ye." Gavin kept his voice low. Her breath hitched. She turned and threw her arms around his neck. "Gavin, there's no trace of her. Ye'd never know she was ever here."

  "Sure there is—there's ye. Serena, her memory resides in ye."

  Serena clutched his plaid and dropped her head against his chest and sobbed. He stroked the back of her hair and met Iain's confused gaze above her head. If he'd expected Gavin to turn her away, Iain would be forever disappointed. He couldn't do it.

  The thought of Iain asking her to wed him still irritated Gavin. In his heart, he sensed she preferred him over Iain. Hadn't she sought him as soon as the inquisition ended, just as she turned to him now? Iain kept watching them.

  "Ye see any trace as to how it might have started?" Gavin asked, hoping the question would spur the man into action and give them a moment of privacy.

  A look of defeat settled upon Iain's face. "I suppose someone should check around." Iain's jaw tensed and his eyes held a lack of trust that wasn't there before.

  "I've seen enough." Serena pulled back, wiping at her eyes. "Let's go bury her now."

  None of them reminded her that there was no body to bury. Gavin understood that Serena felt the need to give Gunna a proper ceremony and a stone carving to mark Gunna's life. He helped Serena mount and then he waited upon Sholto for Iain and Tomas to return.

  "We couldn't find any evidence," Iain said. "Serena, did yer mither hear aught before the fire started?'

  "She didn't mention it." She shook her head, her eyes now dry, but red and swollen. "Mither would have told me if she'd noticed something unusual." Serena looked around and bit her bottom lip. "I've never lived anywhere else. Seeing it like this makes me feel so sad." Her chin trembled, but she lifted her head. "I'll always cherish my memories here, but I'm ready to go now."

  "Lead the way, Tomas," Gavin said. "I've never been to the graveyard before. Is it near the kirk?"

  "Aye. Follow me." Tomas pulled ahead of them. "'Tis on a brae in the woods behind where the kirk was. Ye canna see it from the front. It's a good distance, which is probably why ye've never seen it."

  They formed a line as they rode. The villagers were already at the kirk cleaning up the rubble left from the fire. They had made a pile of stones in one area and were dismantling burnt wood and hauling it to the side on a wooden cart that belonged to Quinn and Beacon. Quinn paused with a load of stones in his arms and looked up.

  "We're going to rebuild the kirk, Father Tomas." His deep voice sounded hopeful and full of determination.

  "We sure are," Lavena said, dragging a black log. Birkita, her sister, scooped ashes into a bucket.

  "Sorry 'bout yer home, Serena. How's yer mither?" Girard asked, his voice too loud. "Speak up now, ye know I canna hear like I used to."

  "Thank ye. She's going to be fine," Serena tried to raise her tone.

  "What?" He turned to his youngest daughter, Rosheen. "What'd she say?" He shouted.

  Rosheen repeated Serena's words, even louder. He nodded in understanding, scratching the side of his gray head. "I'm glad she made it. We're sorry 'bout Gunna, though."

  Gavin glanced at Serena, worried how she'd be at the reminder of Gunna. She gave Girard a smile of gratitude and dropped her gaze. He rode up beside her, hoping his presence gave her comfort.

  "We'll visit the graveyard and when we return, we'll help," Father Tomas said. "I agree. The village must have a new kirk."

  "One bigger and better than before," Beacon dropped a stone half his size on a pile.

  They road on and climbed the hill. The smell of pine surrounded them as their horses' hooves crushed pine needles. Dark pinecones lay scattered about the forest floor. Soon headstones and wooden crosses appeared, about twenty graves in all. Some were marked with field stones containing no dates or names. For a brief moment, Gavin wondered who they were.

  "Over there by the purple heather," Serena pointed to a patch of tiny flowers banked near a mid-sized pine tree. "Since we don't actually have to dig a grave, we can place the wooden cross there. Gunna loved Scotland's heather. 'Tis the perfect spot." Her voice drifted to silence.

  Iain dismounted and untied a large item wrapped in a plaid. "I've something even better for Gunna. I had one of the servants carve her name on this tablet. Stone won't wither and rot as easily as wood. I hope it meets yer approval."

  Serena gasped, covering her mouth in pleasant surprise. She dismounted and rushed over to view Iain's thoughtful gift.

  Gavin slid down the side of his horse at a much slower pace, his heart aching for her. He closed his eyes, fighting a legitimate fear that he could still lose Serena to Iain. Gavin swallowed and waited by Sholto.

  "Gunna Moore," Serena read. "Our dear friend now rests in peace." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she turned to Iain and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank ye for being so thoughtful."

  As he wrestled with feelings of gratitude on Serna's behalf, Gavin's gut twisted like a spike, more jealousy that he wanted to deny taking root.

  Serena willed her body to keep going as they rode through the gate to Braigh Castle. Her heart still ached with each beat, but it no longer burdened her with the same weight she'd endured before Gunna's burial ceremony. The prayer Father Tomas had prayed eased Serena's mind and the stone tablet showed that Gunna was loved in life.

  A black carriage sat by the courtyard door. Serena glanced at Iain, but he showed no outward reaction that he knew who it might be. Curiosity gripped Serena with a tide of fear. She couldn't see an inscription from the kirk on the side. If they intended her harm, wouldn't they haul her away in a wagon with bars rather than this nice piece of equipment?

  Leith had stayed behind with the other men. His brown eyes were guarded as he stood with his arms crossed waiting for them. His mouth slanted in a frown and his chin set at an angle that reminded her of Gavin when he was cross about something.

  When they pulled to a stop, Leith strode to Iain. "Lady Fiona arrived with her maid and enough trunks for a lengthy stay."

  "I don't remember extending an invitation. Is her da here with her?"

  "Nay," Leith shook his brown head. "She said he told her about the fire that got to Evelina. As soon as she learned the news, she set out to comfort her friend."

  "Friend, indeed. I'd just assume friend a snake," Serena mumbled, turning her head to the side to keep from being heard.

  "What was that, Serena?" Gavin asked, always in tune with her mood swings and ever aware of her. Bless his dear soul. If ever there were a true friend, Gavin would be it. He had no reason to be so kind to a village lass or to risk his life and reputation to try and save her from a mob, yet he had. Not once had he expected anything in return. Gavin had earned her friendship, her respect, and even a secret love she would continue to harbor in her heart.

  "Naught of importance." She glanced at Iain. "I'd like to retire now. I'm weary and I'd like to go to my chamber if ye don't mind."

  "Of course," Iain said. "I could have a tray sent up for both ye and Evelina."

  "Serena, I think ye should know that Lady Fiona is with yer mither. She wanted to keep her company while ye're gone," Leith said.

  Alarm crashed into Serena as Lady Fiona's haughty comments came to mind. She didn't trust the woman—no matter how well-bred her family claimed to be.

  Serena slid from her horse. She landed on her feet and shook out the soot and dust in the folds of her skirts. Her eyes burned from crying and her
temples had begun to throb while on the way back, but she couldn't worry about that right now. She needed to save her mother from Lady Fiona's arrogant tongue.

  Stepping around the others, Serena touched her palm to her head as she hurried.

  "Serena, are ye all right, lass?" Gavin asked, walking away from Leith to follow her. "Ye kept pressing yer head that same way the last time ye had a fit."

  "I'll be fine since I'm going to my chamber to rest," Serena said over her shoulder. She rushed inside and into the dark hallway. By the time she reached the great hall, someone called her name.

  "I need to warn ye." Doreen caught up with her. "Lady Fiona's here."

  "Leith already told us." Serena slid her hand along the rail as they climbed the stairs.

  "I'm sorry. I tried to get her to wait in the great hall, but she insisted that she was 'ere to help yer mither an' ye."

  "It's fine." Serena touched Doreen's shoulder when they reached the landing. "Lady Fiona is used to having her way. I'll take care of things from here—providing I'm able."

  Serena turned the doorknob and stepped inside her chamber. The window was open, allowing the afternoon sun to cast light upon the corner shadows. Her mother's veiled form lay on the bed, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Serena swallowed, her pulse easing with relief.

  A woman's voice paused. Lady Fiona sat in a shimmer of green satin with a purple and green plaid draped over her shoulders. She laid a handwritten journal down in her lap. It was a set of Scriptures from the book of Psalms Tomas had given them after the accident.

  "Good. Ye're back." She scratched the side of her face. "I didn't realize yer mither would want to hold kirk right here in her chamber."

  "Ye didn't have to stay if it bothered ye so much." Serena walked forward, folding her arms over her chest. "The Scriptures comfort her and after what she's been through, I daresay, it's the best thing for her."

  "Which is why I chose to stay." Lady Fiona sat back as if settling in for a while. "How bad are her burns under that veil?"

  "Bad enough." Serena rubbed the back of her neck. "Lady Fiona, I thank ye for coming to visit, but it's been a long day and I'm tired. I'd like to retire now." Serena opened the door.

  "Ye're asking me to leave? After I've traveled here to see ye?" Gray eyes sparkled like coal on fire. Her pink lips thinned in a straight line. She stood and dropped the book on the chair. Rearing her shoulders back and lifting her chin, Lady Fiona glided toward her. "Ye're upset, so I'll overlook yer behavior tonight, but remember this. I've offered to be yer friend and ye'll need all the friends ye can keep if ye have another one of those fits I've heard about."

  Serena bent over an aloe plant and snapped a branch off. She measured its thickness between the pad of her thumb and forefinger. The best she could estimate was the width of a good half inch. With a stem of six inches in length, she'd have enough to mix twice as much salve as Father Tomas had made.

  The sun brightened the day with a few white clouds dotting the blue sky. These warm days wouldn't last much longer with August approaching. Mayhap it would be a good time to go for a walk in the courtyard. She would prefer a longer walk, but Gavin and Iain had warned her to stay within the confines of the castle walls for safety. Lately, even the castle seemed like a new kind of prison with Lady Fiona's arrival.

  Serena and her mother took most of their meals in their chamber to avoid the woman. When Serena did venture out, she kept to the servants' areas where Fiona would never venture. Gavin soon learned of Serena's habit and often stopped by the kitchen or asked Doreen for her whereabouts. He complained of Lady Fiona's vixen ways, making Serena laugh at his attempts to mock her.

  Serena drifted through the herbal garden. She dropped an aloe branch in the fold of her apron with the other herbs she had picked and stood. Turning, she nearly collided into someone. She gasped, juggling her load to keep from littering the ground. Once she had gained a semblance of balance, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the bright rays.

  "Pardon me, Serena. 'Twasn't my intention to frighten ye, lass." Iain rubbed his mustache at the corner. He shifted his feet and she wondered if something bothered him as he stared off into the distance.

  "Iain, is everythin' all right?" She held her breath, dreading more bad news. They had certainly experienced their share of late.

  "Nay." He shook his head. "I was hoping I could talk to ye, but I didn't want to keep ye from yer mither." He glanced at the bundle cradled in her arms.

  Serena followed his gaze and realized his concern. Touched by his thoughtfulness, Serena felt compelled to hear him. "Actually, she's sleeping at the moment. I had planned to make more salve to apply to her burn when she wakes."

  A disappointed expression crossed his features as a crease marred his red eyebrows and his mouth dropped in a frown. "In that case, it can wait until another time."

  "Ye mistake me. While she is resting would be a fine time for a walk in the courtyard. The thought just crossed my mind." Serena pulled the strings free at the back of her apron, careful to keep the herbs wrapped inside. "Allow me a moment to set these aside."

  "Of course."

  She laid the bundle on the ground by the gated fence to the herbal garden and turned back to Iain. "I'm ready."

  He led her around the corner into the wide courtyard. They strolled in leisure. He cleared his throat. "How is yer mither healing? Does she need aught?"

  "She's better each day. I must admit, she's far more comfortable here at Braigh Castle than she would have been at home. I canna thank ye enough for that." Serena gave him a sideways glance. He kept his gaze down toward his laced brown boots as they walked. The color of his skin had darkened to match the shade of his hair.

  "I'm sorry about yer home. As soon as ye're both up to it, we can send for Kyla to make new gowns. The two of ye canna keep going around borrowing from the servants."

  The back of Serena's throat stung. How would she ever repay the kindness of so many people? For herself, she didn't mind going without, but she couldn't bear to see her mother suffer one more discomfort.

  "As for the cottage, I was hoping ye wouldn't rebuild." Iain said. "I'd like ye to remain here at Braigh Castle, both ye and yer mither."

  "But we must rebuild!" The idea of not having their own private home filled her with apprehension.

  Iain stopped and touched her arm. Serena paused to face him. This time the sun was at an angle behind her so she could clearly see his expression. He took her hand in his. Iain's hazel eyes searched her face as he squinted.

  "Serena, these past several months of having ye work in my home, getting to know ye, and coming to care about ye has made me realize I never want to be without ye. I don't want ye to be here as a servant, but as a wife. Share my life with me. Everything I own would be ours." He paused and rubbed his face. "I realize ye may not love me, but I'm hoping in time ye'll come to care for me as much as I do ye. I can give ye security in a nice stable home, the protection of my name, my body and heart will be yers . . . all that I am."

  Stunned, Serena stared at him trying to absorb his words. She realized her mouth hung open and quickly closed it. No words came to mind, but Gavin's face appeared in her memory, the kiss they'd shared. She tried to imagine the same kind of closeness with Iain. Her heart revolted, weighing heavy against her chest like a large field stone.

  Father Kendrick's words from their private inquisition filled her head . . . the pressing questions . . . the accusing warnings. How could she be any man's bride? The thought thrust her into a pool of agony when she considered Gavin, not Iain. Still, she didn't want to hurt him.