“I traveled all the way to Haddington just to hear someone say I have no confidence?”
“Has no one said it to ye before?”
She never voiced her worries to her family. She never wanted to burden them with her troubles. Adam was busy dealing with all that went into being a laird, and Nellie had her hands full raising three children.
Tara sighed and slumped her shoulders. “Nay,” she replied.
They were silent for a while. “Is this about the sasunnach?” Rhona finally asked.
Tara was about to deny it, but like everything else, Rhona would probably see right through her lie. “Aye, it is. Well, it’s about all men, really. But... for whatever reason, I am drawn to him an’ it makes me nervous.” Tara realized she was fiddling with the skirt of her dress and smoothed it down with the palm of her hand. “I am to eat dinner with him and his son.”
“Ye can trust him,” Rhona said. “Don’t know about the rest of them, but that sasunnach is a good man.”
“It’s not him being English that I’m worried about,” Tara said to her. “Like you said, I don’t trust myself. Thanks for helpin’ me realize that.”
She wanted to stay longer to speak with Rhona, but there were people waiting patiently for the witch’s attention. Tara instead spent the remainder of the day reading in Rhona’s library. A few quiet students trickled in and out, lost in their own studies.
Tara was prepared to expect Baldric and Colin to come in at any time, but she still jumped with surprise when the boy wandered into the library. He stared up at the rows of books with interest before finally spotting Tara.
He grinned. “Hullo, Tara!”
“Good mornin’, Baldric,” she said. “Is your father around?”
“He’s talkin’ to the witch lady,” Baldric explained, crawling up on the chair next to her to sit on it. “He told me to wait in here.”
No doubt, Colin was explaining to Rhona what had happened yesterday evening. Tara had wondered if Baldric had fallen into the water or was called to go inside by his selkie family. The River Tyne fed directly into the North Sea, and she was sure some selkies traveled up the river to try to entice unsuspecting people. In many ways, they were the Seelie version of the leannan sith, although the selkies did not enjoy killing their lovers.
“What are you doin’ here, Tara?” the boy asked.
“Well,” Tara said, staring down at her books. “I’m studyin’. But what I’m studyin’ is a secret, so don’t let your father know.”
The boy nodded. “I’m good at keepin’ secrets,” he explained confidently.
“Good.” She found herself not wanting Colin to know that she was a half-fairy. Firstly, it was none of his business, just as it was none of her business to be informed of whatever he and Baldric were dealing with, although she was very much interested. But there was also another reason. She didn’t want him to be scared or repulsed by her.
She would just have a friendly dinner with the two then continue her studies. The most important thing she needed to focus on was how in the world she would transform into a cat without any aid.
Chapter 8
Thank God Baldric was found.
Colin’s reoccurring nightmare was of Baldric finding himself in depthless water, kicking frantically, and ultimately drowning because Colin wasn’t quick enough to save him. He thought his nightmare had finally come true when he turned his head for one moment while they were playing by the river. He had been through this scenario once, years ago, and he did not want to live through it again.
He almost fell to his knees and wept with relief when that woman appeared with Baldric by her side. It was as though she was some sort of angel that had been sent from the heavens to save his nephew. She was just as beautiful as one. It was the first time he had been stunned and speechless in the presence of a woman. If his friend were with him, he would have never heard the end of his mirth.
Colin had surprised himself when he asked her for dinner, but he quickly came to his senses once he left. I’m not here trying to woo a woman, he thought. I am here for Baldric. I am here for him to have a chance to live his life as a normal child.
Baldric would not stop talking about the woman the rest of the night and into the next day. After telling Rhona about what happened to Baldric the day before, he gathered the boy and left the church.
“I saw her today,” Baldric said.
“Who, Tara?” Colin asked. The boy nodded. “Well, she is staying in town, after all. Where did you see her? The inn?”
“Oh, um…” the boy faltered and looked uneasy. “When we were walking to the witch lady’s church,” he finally said.
“Her name is Rhona,” Colin amended, but then remembered that the woman had, indeed, called herself a witch. To many, the word “witch” had negative connotations. In England, if one were to reveal themselves as a witch or be accused of being one, it would often lead them to be burned at the stake. Scotia was a little bit more liberal in that regard, yet Rhona still needed to disguise her abode as a normal place of worship.
During the few days they’d spent at Haddington, they had taken their meals to their rooms, so not as to raise any suspicion among the other patrons as to why an English man and boy were in a quaint Scottish town. Colin was also apprehensive about people recognizing him or Baldric, although the risk was low. He didn’t think anyone he or his brother knew would be all the way up here in Haddington.
Baldric did not have a handle on his magic, but he was still young. Perhaps as he matured, he would be better able to control his impulses for the water. But until then, he would remain by Colin’s side, and Colin would watch his every step. It was the only thing he could do, even if it meant that he would live indefinitely at Haddington and take a different name.
When evening came, he went down to the tavern below the guest rooms and pulled up a seat for both himself and Baldric.
“No children.” The barkeep was a burly man with hairy arms and chest. He was definitely not the type of person to cross, but being a duke—albeit a lowly one now that his reputation had been ruined—Colin was used to getting his own way. For a moment, he forgot where he was.
“But…”
The barkeep folded his large arms and looked down at Colin. “No children,” he repeated.
“The room is cold, sir. There is no fireplace to keep warm. He will be quiet, I assure you.”
The man gave him a hard look and finally grunted. “If he makes so much as a peep, I’ll kick both of ye out of here.”
“That would be understandable,” Colin said agreeably. “You can gladly kick us out if you hear him.” The barkeep shook his head, muttering under his breath about the finer qualities of a sasunnach before heeding the call of another patron.
“Baldric,” Colin said, turning to the boy who sat beside him, his feet dangling from the chair. “You heard the man. You’ll need to be very quiet. Pretend as though this is a game, and you need to be the quietest person in the room.”
“Yes, Colin,” Baldric said, nodding his head.
“Da. Call me Da, remember.”
“Yes, Da.” The boy paused. “Are you really my da now?” His words sounded hopeful.
Colin blew out some air, wondering how he should answer.
“No, Baldric. Your da is still in Northumbria.” He felt terrible to lie to the boy, so he kept as close to the truth as possible without needing to scare him. “It can be a bit dangerous up here in Scotia, so it is safer if people still believe you’re my son, all right?”
He saw the frightened look in his eyes and swore internally, wishing Baldric was just a little bit older. “Worry not, Baldric. You’re to remain safe with me.”
“Yes, Da.”
He didn’t expect how it would feel for Baldric to call him that. It was a feeling of longing and sadness. If only Baldric’s real father had an ounce of humanity left in him, then they wouldn’t be in this situation.
Tara did not come from the guest rooms but from
the tavern’s entrance. She looked as though she had gone for a long walk. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink; her hair, pinned up in braids, looked in disarray. Her green eyes shone like sparkling emeralds. But even in her disheveled state, she was absolutely stunning.
She spotted Colin and walked over toward him, sending him a warm smile. Colin couldn’t help but notice how the men in the tavern stopped what they were doing to wordlessly watch her walk, like she was the Queen of England herself.
He, too, could not take his eyes off of her as she rubbed her hands together to stave off a chill. It was a benignly human gesture to do, but for some reason, it seemed so intoxicating to him.
He shook his head to clear it and gave her a smile as she came up to him. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, bowing her head slightly. She didn’t meet his gaze. Was she shy? He hadn’t received that impression when they met yesterday by the river.
“Do not worry about it,” he insisted. “Please, have a seat.”
Tara sat across from them and grinned at his nephew. “And how are you, Baldric?” she asked.
“Good!” the boy peeped. “Has anyone ever said that you talk funny?”
“Baldric, we’ve spoken about this before,” Colin admonished, but Tara waved him off.
“My voice does sound different from yours,” she told the boy, “but that’s because I come from the Highlands. Do you know where that is?”
The boy shook his head.
“It’s way, way, up north, where it’s hilly and cold. I live right by the ocean, too.” Abruptly, she looked up at Colin. Her face reddened, as though she were embarrassed by what she had just said. But how would she know? Maybe she was just remembering what had happened last night and considered her words insensitive.
“So what’s on the menu?” she asked. “More roast hare and stew, I reckon?”
“That seems to be both their specialty and all they have on the menu,” Colin said, and Tara laughed. Nay, she did not seem like a shy woman, but there was something about her that he couldn’t quite understand, like a puzzle he needed to solve.
They were served their food, and the barkeep gave both he and Tara a big tankard of mead. “Not sure if I’ll be able to finish this,” Tara said, eyeing the large piece of crockery. She took a sip. “Ach, but I’ll try. This is the best ale I’ve had in a while, an’ I’ve been to a lot of places on my way here to Haddington.”
Colin didn’t want to pry—just as he hoped she wouldn’t pry too much into his life—but he had to know why a Highlander woman had traveled this far south to Haddington. It wasn’t like this was a destination town, as there was little to do there for entertainment. Did she travel here alone? Did she have family near?
“What are you doing in Haddington, may I ask?”
She sipped her drink, considering an answer. He almost regretted asking her the question, but finally, she answered. “I’m here to learn more about my family,” she told him. “My father died before I was born, and I no longer speak to my mother, so I want to find out my history that no one was able to tell me.”
“And the answers are here at Haddington?”
She shrugged. “Some answers are,” she answered. “I haven’t been here too long, so perhaps there will be more.” Her answer was cryptic and vague. He decided not to press her any further on that matter.
But he was still curious. “Did you travel alone?” he asked.
“Well,” Tara began. “Not quite. I did have a chaperone come along with me.” She cleared her throat and looked expectedly past Colin’s shoulder. He turned his head and saw a man in Highland garb walking toward them.
“M’lady,” the man said to Tara, giving her a slight bow.
My lady?
“For God’s sake, don’t do that. What is it, Ealair?” Colin could tell that this Ealair was not a welcome sight.
The man looked suspiciously at Colin. He was a good half a decade younger than himself, still in the cusp of manhood. Ealair leaned forward and whispered something in Tara’s ear. “No, it’s quite all right,” she told him sternly. “You may go back to your room.”
Ealair shot Colin one dark look and left. When he was gone, Tara sighed and relaxed back into her chair.
“So you are a lady?”
She looked at him apologetically. “Only by birth,” she said sarcastically.
He laughed. “Well, I am also a duke, perhaps by birth only, not of character. But I’m sure you must know that none of that even matters.”
She said nothing further, and they continued eating their meal. He thought that perhaps they were both in Haddington for reasons they didn’t want to talk about, and he respected that. As nice as she seemed, he wasn’t going to suddenly delve into his own secrets about himself or his nephew.
Although she was quite talkative, still she would not meet his gaze directly. He finally called her out on it. “Does my face scare you?”
She shot her head up at him, shocked. “Of course not,” she said quickly, her voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a gasp.
“Aye, just checking,” he said. “You seemed to be very interested in your stew.”
“Oh,” Tara pursed her lips and risked another glance up at him. “I have a lot of things going on in my mind, that’s all.”
“You and me both.” He decided not to bother her any further, although he would have loved to spend the rest of the evening prodding the pretty woman with questions. She didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk anymore, however. He wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Finished, Baldric?”
Baldric had pieces of stew on his tunic and all over his face. The boy nodded as Colin wiped him clean. Baldric turned back to Tara, whose food remained largely untouched.
“I just wanted to thank you again for saving Baldric. How long are you going to be in Haddington?”
“Oh, I’m not sure yet. Until I find the answers, I suppose. And how about yourself?”
“I was thinking about moving here.”
Tara raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t in hard for an Englishman to live in Scotia, considerin’ the circumstances?”
Colin shrugged. “My mother is Scottish, so I suppose I have some leeway in the matter if anyone were to get upset. I hope to see you again, Lady Tara.”
“Maxwell,” she said. “I’m Tara Maxwell.”
“Colin Morrison.”
“It’s a pleasure to fully meet you, Laird Morrison.”
It was hard to pull away from her; it really was. However, he forced himself to stand up and help Baldric off the seat. They retired back up to their rooms, leaving Tara to her own thoughts.
No woman—not even his former wife, whom he thought he had loved in the years past—had so enraptured his attention as that woman downstairs. It wasn’t just her beauty. She seemed intelligent and quick-witted, but like him, there was a darker history behind those peculiar eyes.
Those eyes. He didn’t realize it before, but they reminded him of Baldric’s own. Could it be that she was a fairy?
Wouldn’t Baldric have noticed and said something to him if that were true?
Chapter 9
How long was she going to be in Haddington? However long it took to figure out how to get rid of her mother. The fact that she was a shapeshifter was a good thing, as surprising as it was, but she didn’t quite know how turning into a cat or a bat was going to stop a powerful Unseelie from wreaking havoc on her family or Scotia. Perhaps if she were to turn into a creature as big as Nessie, then she might have an advantage.
Colin Morrison still didn’t seem to be enchanted by her. In fact, he seemed absolutely normal. He was very polite and courteous, and when their interactions had started to get flirtatious he politely steered the conversation in a different direction.
She liked Colin. That much she knew to be true. Tara hoped she would be able to meet with him and Baldric again but wondered if that would be a wise thing to even consider. If she decided she wanted to become closer to him, friendship or otherwi
se, he was going to figure out at some point that she was half fairy. It wasn’t something she could hide from those close to her.
Ach, what was she thinking! Tara had more important things to consider than losing herself in romantic daydreams. She needed to get her magic in check before she could think of having feelings for some duke she’d just met, even if he was handsome and charismatic and the father of a half-fairy boy. In her vision yesterday, Una had made decent progress in her journey north, so Tara did not have any time to waste.
To her frustration, a storm blew in the following morning, sending sheets of rain and winds strong enough to topple houses down onto Haddington. The storm sent the roof of the inn flying across town. Her room started to leak the second day, forcing Tara to move her belongings into Ealair’s room. Ealair moved into a common sleeping quarters for men on the other side of the inn, promising he would still keep watch over her, even though she insisted it wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t quite sure what he did during the days when the storm was at its worst, but it wasn’t her problem.
Waiting for the storm to still clear the third day, she sat on her bed, staring out the window at the rhythmic drops of rain hitting the roofs below her. In the distance, the River Tyne swelled with water, some of it spilling into the streets.
Scotia doesn’t have nice weather, she thought. It’s either dismal weather or very dismal weather. She’d heard stories of the land down in the southern part of France, where the beaches were warm and the sun almost always shone. That seemed like paradise, unlike the gray that now greeted her outside.
She then remembered Rhona’s assignment. Aye, she was supposed to change into a cat, wasn’t she?
Tara sighed deeply and closed her eyes. She supposed she didn’t have to be outside to change into an animal. She held out her hands, like she did with the bat, this time imagining she held a furry cat. Perhaps the color and the markings would help.
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