Page 18

CHAPTER 18

Despite Jane’s insistence that Anna ought to stay in her chambers and have breakfast there, Anna had refused, determined to show that she was not afraid of these new circumstances. After all, she’d chosen to leave with Gordon; she couldn’t claim to be surprised that he wasn’t the fawning, false romantic that Laird Glendenning might have been.

He's honest in everythin’ he does. I should admire that, she told herself, as she made her way down to what Jane had referred to as the “ Sea Hall”.

She understood why as soon as she entered.

Long, crosshatched windows made up most of the farthest wall, offering the most exquisite view across the glittering, endless sea, all the way to the hazy horizon. And the thud of the waves against the cliffs was louder here: a sonorous drumming that seemed to start in her feet and vibrate up into her chest, where it beat alongside her heart. A pleasant feeling, a pleasant rhythm, though the same couldn’t be said for the squawking seagulls that had woken her at dawn.

“Good mornin’!” a cheery voice welcomed, followed by a blur of flesh and gown, and slender arms looping around Anna’s neck, hugging her tightly.

Startled, Anna hugged the figure back before she had a moment to realize who it was: the young woman from the night before, who hadn’t been introduced.

“Did ye sleep well? Are yer chambers to yer likin’? If there’s anythin’ at all that ye want changin’, all ye have to do is tell me, and I’ll see it done,” the woman said, pulling back. “Apologies. I’m bein’ too forthright. Forgive me—I’m just… so excited to meet ye.”

She couldn’t have been more than twenty, with long dark hair, braided out of her face, and huge gray eyes that were somehow familiar. At that moment, however, the woman’s extraordinarily expressive eyebrows were proving far too distracting for Anna to place the particular shade of gray.

“I daenae think I heard yer name last night,” Anna said, grateful to have had such a warm welcome.

It certainly took the edge off her nerves, though they bristled afresh as she glanced across the table, and saw Gordon seated to one side. He hadn’t bothered to look up at his betrothed’s entrance.

“Och, what a dolt I am!” The woman took Anna’s hand, leading her to the far end of the table, closest to those magnificent views. “I’m Sophia. Gordon’s cousin. Daughter of that man there—Matthew Shaw.”

She gestured to another familiar face, who’d been there in the courtyard last night. There could be no denying the blood relation between Matthew and Gordon, their features so similar that one could have mistaken them for father and son, rather than uncle and nephew.

“Is there somethin’ in the water here?” Anna asked with a nervy laugh.

Sophia frowned. “Do ye mean the sea? There’s naught but salt in that.”

Anna chuckled more freely. “Nay, I meant that everyone here is so… tall.”

Even Sophia wasn’t lacking in height, standing half a head taller than Anna, who had always thought of herself as being rather tall for a lass.

“Oh, I see!” Sophia laughed right along with Anna. “Aye, the Shaws are well kenned for growin’ large as trees, though me faither claims the years have shrunken him somewhat.”

Matthew nodded, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “It’s true. There’s a mark on a wall somewhere that shows me height when I was five-and-twenty. I’m shorter than it now, at this ripe age of two-and-fifty.” He smiled. “Did ye rest well, Lady Anna?”

“I did, thank ye,” Anna lied, hoping the dark circles under her eyes wouldn’t betray her. “But I’d like to request a slingshot, if I may?”

Gordon perked up at that, frowning, but it was Matthew who asked the question, “Why would ye want a slingshot, lass?”

“To take me revenge on the gulls that saw fit to wake me before the sun had even peeked above the horizon,” Anna replied, rewarded immediately by the sweet, comforting sound of laughter.

Apparently, the affliction of being unable to smile or laugh was isolated only to Gordon. His uncle and cousin chuckled heartily, as did the other man at the table who Anna still didn’t know. Even the maids who were serving laughed behind their hands.

“I’ll show ye how to frighten them off,” Sophia promised, urging Anna to sit.

The unknown man smirked. “Aye, but then she’ll be woken at dawn by ye screamin’ instead, or we’ll all be woken by her screamin’.”

“It works, I swear it,” Sophia protested. “And once they ken yer mettle, they daenae bother ye again. They fly off to shriek at someone else’s window.”

“And the cycle begins again,” the man said, breaking off a piece of bread.

“That’s David,” Sophia explained, smiling. “Me cousin’s m an-at-a rms. Doesnae have much between his ears, but there’s nay one better other than me cousin himself if ye’re in need of protectin’.”

“I heard that,” David said, laughing.

Sophia threw a grin back at him. “I meant ye to.”

For a moment, Anna wondered if there was something… amorous between the beautiful young woman and the handsome, tall, robust m an-at-a rms, but as they continued to throw a few quips across the table, she recognized the rapport. They were more like Anna and Jackson than secret lovers, squabbling like siblings.

Indeed, now that she thought about it, Sophia reminded her a great deal of someone else.

“Ye’re so very like Elinor,” Anna said, almost to herself.

Sophia reached for a pewter pitcher, pouring something red into two cups. “Elinor?”

Elinor was the cheeriest of the three Lane sisters—or had been, before she was stolen by Laird Dalmorglen. She had always had a ready smile for everyone, more beloved by the castle residents than even Anna, and would go out of her way to put any newcomers at ease.

But she had been gloriously funny, too, bringing to Anna’s mind a wave of precious memories of Lane family breakfasts: Ewan crying tears of laughter over something Elinor had said; Elinor and Jackson firing jests across the table, outdoing one another; Elinor putting the best piece of meat or the most buttery eggs or the juiciest fruits or the softest slice of bread on Anna’s plate; Elinor and Moira gossiping with the maids, Elinor scooping Anna into the conversation even though she was the youngest, so she wouldn’t feel left out.

Goodness, how I miss her…

“Me sister,” Anna replied thickly. “One of them, at least.”

The compliment seemed to please Sophia, who pushed one of the cups toward Anna. “Will she be comin’ to the weddin’?”

“ If there’s a weddin’,” Anna corrected, with a cursory glance at Gordon, “I’ll invite her, but… I’m nae certain she’ll come.”

“Oh, why nae?” Sophia frowned. “Have ye had a fallin’ out?”

“What? Nay, nothin’ of the sort. I adore her. I’d see her every day if I could,” Anna hurried to reply, her heart weighing heavier in her chest. “But I havenae seen her in three years. She writes, but the letters are… nae written as freely as I’d like.”

Every paragraph reeked of her husband’s watchful eye, Elinor’s words filtered through his permission, her merry voice stolen away along with the rest of her joy and liberty. Over the years, the sisters had tried to come up with secret codes, but they rarely lasted more than a few months before Elinor’s husband figured them out and they ceased appearing in Elinor’s letters.

“Three years!” Sophia gasped. “Does she live far away? Even so, if ye wanted to see each other, there’s nay distance that could stop a person.”

Nay distance could, but it’s nae that simple.

Anna took hold of the cup and sipped, surprised by the delicious, tart taste of sugared raspberries on her tongue. “It’s her husband who doesnae want us seein’ each other,” she said, swallowing. “Ye see, she was taken. Taken because of?—”

She stopped herself abruptly, forgetting where she was. This wasn’t the sort of thing she could talk about in front of relative strangers, no matter how lovely and welcoming most of them were. Nor did she know if they would see the issue, considering why she was there.

“Because of what?” Gordon’s voice cut through the hall, though he still didn’t raise his gaze to her.

In truth, he couldn’t have sounded less interested, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice to ignore him. This was his castle, this was his family, and she was there at his invitation. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was rude, despite the sensitive subject.

She stared at him, willing him to look at her. “Because of our… blessin’ .” When he still wouldn’t look her way, her desire to be polite vanished, her words coming out through gritted teeth: “For her, for me dear sister, it goes without sayin’ that it has been naught but a curse.”

Feeling a prickle in her eyes, worried that tears might not be far off, she stood in haste and bowed her head to the rest of the table. “Excuse me, I just remembered that there’s somethin’ I must remove from one of me trunks before it creases. I willnae be long.”

Not knowing if she was meant to wait for permission, and not at all caring if she was, she hurried down the side of the table and out of the room before anyone could say a word.

This was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Holding the tears at bay, determined to keep them from falling, she headed down the hallway with her hands balled into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms. But she had barely gone more than twenty paces before she realized she had no idea where she was going; she couldn’t remember the way back to her chambers, and every cavernous hallway, hollowed out from the cliff, looked identical to the next.

“This way,” a deep voice rumbled, like the pounding of the waves against the cliffside, echoing the sudden thundering of her heart.