Piercing bright sunlight through his windows woke him later that morning. He opened his eyes and groaned, his head bursting. Tempted to go back to sleep, he knew it would do no good to stay in bed. Sitting up, he moaned, holding his head. Long minutes passed, then he dressed and left the room.
Plodding down the stairs, he headed for the smaller dining room, where the family always ate breakfast. He poured himself a goblet of tea, his stomach rebelling at the thought of food. He wondered where his father was.
One of the servants came to set a tray of breakfast rolls on the table. “Sir, your father has been asking about you. I’ll tell him you’re up.”
Sipping his tea, Colin looked up as his father entered the room. He looked more upset than Colin could remember.
“Son, I’ve been waiting for you to get up.” He spoke in a strained voice as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “The worst news, the worst possible news.” He held his hand to his chest, and Colin feared he might have a heart seizure.
He set his goblet down with a thud, the tea spilling. “Father, what is it?” Now his father had him worried.
“Donella, whom you were to marry today, has run off with another man!”
The tenant farmer! A swell of happiness burst through him, but he schooled his features, never wanting his father to suspect his relief, his absolute joy.
“The tenant farmer! How could she do such a thing? Run off with another man, a farmer on their estate! A man so far beneath her, when she was to marry you today.”
Colin drained his goblet and pushed it aside. “How do they expect to live? How can he provide for her?”
“She took all of her jewelry, I understand. That should help for a good while, but the money from the sale of her jewels won’t last forever.”
“Has her father sent servants after them?”
“They left during the night, too late for anyone to pursue them. Most likely they’re out of Avador now, possibly in Elegia or Fomoria.”
Colin tapped his fingers on the table, careful to hide the euphoria that flooded his body. Granted this reprieve, he could think of nothing but Alana. Yet she remained as far out of reach as ever.
Chapter Fifteen
Alana found her position as governess to Morna Forgaill more enjoyable than she had anticipated. Or that the child’s father had led her to believe, she thought after several days in the household. Oh, to be sure, she had caught Morna sliding down the banister a couple of times, a caper that garnered the little girl a scolding and a promise not to do it again.
As governess, she had easily adjusted to a routine. She had breakfast by herself in her own room and shared lunch with Morna. In the evening, she dined with Malcolm Forgaill and his father, Gorsedd.
On this morning, she had drained her goblet of tea and set her breakfast tray aside, planning the day ahead. Screaming from downstairs brought her to her feet, the goblet shaking in her hand. She jerked her door open and raced down the long hallway and on down the stairs, nearly slipping on the bottom stair. She recalled that Malcolm Forgaill and his father had left the house earlier on business, so she must handle this problem alone.
At the entrance to the kitchen, Morna giggled and clapped her hands as a giant frog hopped around the room, sending the cook and kitchen helpers screaming and running for cover.
Alana took a deep breath. “Morna, catch that frog and put it outside.”
“But it’s so funny!”
“Put that frog outside.”
After a bit of chasing around the room, Morna caught the frog and opened the kitchen door, then tossed the frog onto the grass.
Alana took the child by the hand and led her away, toward the stairs. “Morna, you mustn’t treat servants unkindly and play tricks on them. They can’t talk back to you or report your bad manners to your father. And speaking of your father, he wants you to grow up to be a lady. That’s why I’m here.”
She hung her head. “I don’t want to be a lady.”
Alana hugged her. “Well, for now, you’re just a little girl of seven. I’m sure you’ll change your mind in a few years. Now, let’s go upstairs to your room. Time for your geography lesson.”
After the episode with the frog, Morna behaved for the rest of the day. Still, Alana looked forward to the evening meal, a time of relaxation with intelligent, stimulating conversation from Malcolm and his father.
The expansive dining room held an oaken table capable of seating twelve, but the three diners sat at one end, making for easier conversation. Following the custom of Avador, they left an empty place for the Goddess.
On this evening, both men were clad in fine linen tunics that reached to their knees, the fine linen an indication of their wealth and distinction. Malcolm’s pendant fascinated her, and even in the dim candlelight, she could make out its intricate design, the curving lines inlaid with amber.
“Perhaps we should have explained from the first,” Gorsedd Forgaill said, “we own iron ore mines throughout the kingdom, an enterprise that keeps us both quite busy.”
“Very true,” Malcolm added. “Not only managing the financial aspect of the business, but there is often trouble at the mines, accidents that we do all we can to prevent. We try to ensure the safety of our workers, all of them dwarves with no other prospect of employment.” He sighed. “But accidents happen.”
With no knowledge of mining or iron ore, Alana couldn’t enter the conversation but enjoyed hearing them talk.
Malcolm sipped his elderberry wine and set the silver goblet down. “Much of our iron ore is shipped to Elegia, to be used in making steel, for the excellent swords that country makes.”
Colin’s sword! She remembered his every word. “An Elegian sword, best swords made. Finest steel.” Could she never drive him from her mind? Did every mundane talk bring back memories of him? Her hand shook as she reached for her goblet, but if either of the Forgaills noticed, they said nothing.
During a lull in the conversation, she recalled her intention to give her former home to Maude Mulligan but didn’t know how to accomplish that transaction. Could she just give her the house outright?
“A Deed of Ownership,” Gorsedd explained. “You will need to go to the Magistrate’s Hall and tell them you want to give your house to another person. They’ll give you two copies, both to be signed by you and the person to whom you are bequeathing the house. That done, you will leave one copy with the recipient of the house and return the other copy to the Magistrate’s Hall.”
Malcolm looked her way. “Do you want me to go with you? Many departments in the Hall.”
“No thank you, sir. I wouldn’t want to impose on your time. I’ll tend to the task myself, first chance I get.” Did she see an expression of disappointment on his face, or was she imagining things again?
After the evening meal, Alana’s time was her own. Morna ate her meal with the nursemaid, who put her to bed later.
Finished with dinner, Alana rose from the table after Malcolm and his father stood. From her first day in the household, she’d noticed the fine library with its extensive collection of books, not only fiction but books on many subjects, such as histories of Avador, biographies of former kings and queens, and several tomes devoted to mining ore. Oh, would she love a book to read.
“But of course,” Malcolm said after she asked him about borrowing a book. “I should have suggested it before. Help yourself to any book you desire. Is there any particular type of book you like to read?”
Heat rushed to her face. “I must confess I like adventure novels, also romances.”
“Yes, we have plenty of them.” He smiled, a smile that turned melancholy. “My wife enjoyed those books, too.”
With several books borrowed from the library, Alana found she could easily fill her time in the evening.
On her first free day, she headed for the Magistrate’s Hall on the western edge of the city, near the hospital and the Temple of Knowledge. A short while later she left with the deeds in her hand and walked a
few streets to the dress shop, where she ordered a light green cotton frock.
Her second nine-day with Morna passed quickly, but unfortunately a wet spell brought thunderstorms with heavy rain on her day off. She would have to wait for better weather to visit Maude and give her the deed to her house.
Time and again, she found Malcolm looking her way, and not in a professional manner, as one would expect from an employer. His looks appeared somber but admiring, leaving her to wonder if she imagined things again, or did he care for her? Truth to tell, she found much to admire in him. He was ever a gentleman, always asking her how she fared, and had she found sufficient reading material? Intelligent and well-read, he could discuss many subjects and give her new insights on every one. She found pleasure in these discussions, both during the evening meal and after his father had left to tend to business. He could make her laugh, too, with funny anecdotes about people he knew. Day after day, she found herself drawn to him and wondered if he could ever take Colin’s place in her heart.
On her next day off, she felt she could no longer postpone her trip to Cairn. Deeds in hand, she trod the old familiar path, a warm breeze fluttering the leaves of oaks and maples. She breathed deeply of the scent of peaches, the fruit ripe and ready to eat. She smiled and waved at horsemen galloping past. A rush of memories taunted her, her last sight of Colin as he rode off from the forest.
Since she had almost completed her first moonphase as governess, she looked forward to receiving her first silver coin. Malcolm hadn’t shown any displeasure with her performance, and indeed, gave the impression that he approved of her.
With the sun overhead and the air heavy with heat, she entered the village, past the sacred pile of stones, the blacksmith’s, the farrier’s and on to the cottages. Mixed emotions churned inside her, a recollection of her last visit here, when she had exposed Morag as a witch. She caught the surprised glances of the villagers, their hesitant greetings. She wondered if Brendan was home and hoped he wasn’t.
“Have you returned to stay, Alana?” Ronat Cellachain asked.
Alana smiled. “No, sorry to say.” A lie! “I’m working in Moytura now. Just came on my day off to visit Maude.”
At Maude’s cottage, she presented the deed, telling her she was leaving the house to her.
“But why?” Alana knew the woman to be forty, but she looked to be sixty, with her gray hair and wrinkles tracking her face.
“Because you have suffered enough,” she said, explaining that the house needed a thorough cleaning. “Nothing major, just a good sweeping and dusting.” Since Maude couldn’t write, Alana placed an X by her name and signed for her. She gave one copy of the deed with Maude and kept the other to be returned to the Magistrate’s Hall.
Leaving the village, she remembered the boy Colin had hired to cut wood for her. Recalling his direction, she walked a mile out of her way to tell him his services would no longer be needed.
Darkness was falling as she entered Moytura hours later. Cedric’s talk of demons returned to haunt her. What if they hadn’t disappeared? Her heart pounded as she looked from one side of the street to another, continually checking behind her. Overwhelmingly relieved , she reached the Forgaill mansion, its front room alight with candles. Releasing a deep sigh, she opened the door and stepped inside.
“Alana!” Malcolm sprang from a chair, frowning. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you, as has my father.”
Suddenly ashamed of causing him concern, she felt her face flush. “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. I had several errands to tend to, and they took longer than I had expected.”
“Please don’t stay out this late again. I swear I aged ten years while you were gone.”
“Then I truly am sorry, sir.”
He stepped closer, a slow smile reaching his face. “And please stop calling me ‘sir’. I’d like to hear you call me by my name, Malcolm.”
“But, sir—“
“Malcolm.”
She smiled. “Very well, Malcolm, but only when we are by ourselves.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “May there be many such occasions.”
Lying in bed later, she recalled Malcolm’s worried look and his warm words. She didn’t want to encourage him, for only one man held her heart. But on the other hand, her mind argued, Colin was out of her life forever. Then again, her thoughts continued, you have a lively imagination, seeing things that don’t exist. His interest is merely that of an employer for someone working for him.
One evening, she stood outside in the expansive backyard, staring up at the vast sky, filled with millions of stars and a full moon. The sweet aroma of night-blooming paconia blew her way, a scent that reminded her of her home in Cairn, where her mother had planted the aromatic flowers. She delighted in the lighting bugs flitting about, jeweling the purple sky. The air had cooled, bringing relief from the daytime heat. She detected a hint of autumn in the air, the days not so oppressively hot, and leaves falling from the trees.
Having served in the Forgaill household for one moonphase, she had received her first silver coin. A sense of accomplishment filled her with pride, the knowledge that she had pleased Malcolm with her performance. She had much to be thankful for, she thought as she—-
“A beautiful night, is it not?”
“Oh!” She swung around to see Malcolm headed her way, his walk sure and steady. His burgundy tunic and gold belt imbued him with an air of distinction, his face as handsome as ever. His light blond hair appeared silver in the moonlight.
He joined her by the earthberry bush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He licked his bottom lip, a look of hesitation on his face. “I’ve wanted to know for some time. Are you happy here, Alana?”
“Oh, yes, sir—Malcolm. Morna is a dear, eager to learn and quite well-behaved. I’ve enjoyed her company, teaching her—“
”I’m not referring to Morna, although she means much to me.” He reached for her hand. “What about me?” He spoke quickly. “When you first came here, I told you my wife had died at Morna’s birth. A lonely life without a woman doesn’t appeal to me. It’s time I married again, and I find myself admiring you, more and more every day….”
Oh, no. What could she say?
“Now I’m asking you, Alana. Will you marry me?”
Chapter Sixteen
Tempted to ride to Moytura and search for Alana street by street, Colin realized the foolishness of such a plan. He still lacked proof that she lived in Moytura, going only on the word of the villagers in Cairn, and that didn’t count for much. Day after day, he kept busy with estate business, hoping to forget her, as if he could! She was lost to him for all time. She might have married another man, a prospect that kept him awake at night, tossing and turning in his lonely bed.
Suppose—vain hope!—that he would see her again and that she would consent to marry him. He was his own man—no question about that—yet he didn’t want to displease his father. He must consider the future of the estate. Nevertheless, he decided the best course would be to prepare his father for the eventuality that he might marry Alana, no matter how remote the possibility. And he would prepare him in a roundabout way.
“I’ve never told you about my period of recovery from my battle wound,” he said as he and his father shared an early morning breakfast.
“And to my shame, I never asked you.” Finian Duffrey looked away for a moment. “So much has happened—Leith’s passing, Donella Furneth running off…”
“Yes, Father, I understand. No blame to you. In any event, I suffered a sword wound on my upper arm, not realizing at first how serious it was. After being granted medical leave, I headed for home, taking a shortcut through the woods….”
“And so,” he said minutes later, “that’s how I met Alana. She saved my arm and quite possibly my life. She … she … I came to care for her, very much.”
“Son, I’m so grateful for her care of you, and I understand how thankful you are. If she were here now, I would than
k her profusely and give her a gold coin. But gratitude is no basis for love or marriage.”
He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “If only I could see her again….” He braced himself mentally and related the cottage’s disappearance.
“So you think magic was at work here?”
“What other explanation could there be?”
His father gave him a sly glance. “And maybe this woman is a witch. How do you know she doesn’t practice black magic, a crime punishable by death?”
“She’s not a witch, that I know.” He clenched his hand in his lap. “I want to see her again. I must see her again.”
“For what purpose? She would be completely unsuitable as a life partner. A woman living alone in a forest!” He shook his head. “Entirely unsuitable. She surely must belong to one of the lower classes.”
“That’s what’s so puzzling about her. Her voice and mannerisms bespoke that of a lady.”
His father heaved an audible sigh but remained quiet and turned away.
Colin agonized about telling his father about Alana’s marred face on the very slim chance that he would see her again, for if he did, he would not let her slip away from him. “One more thing I wanted to say about her—“
”Have done with it, Colin! No more talk about a strange woman living alone in a cottage that later disappears! Some time, we must discuss a suitable wife for you, but now is apparently not a good time. But remember, we can’t postpone your marriage much longer. I want to pass on to the Otherworld with the knowledge that our estate will stay in the family and that it’s your son who will inherit after you. And that reminds me of something else that has been on my mind. As my sole surviving son, there should be no question that you will inherit the estate. But Queen Keriam wants everything settled in a legal manner, so that no one will ever contest your claim. This will necessitate two journeys to Moytura—“
Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) Page 10
