Page 20

CHAPTER 20

“I cannae imagine how ye must be feelin’,” Sophia said, leading Anna through the maze of drafty hallways, pointing out an endless multitude of rooms and halls and chambers and passageways. “I had nay notion that there was such a legacy surroundin’ the lasses of yer family. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about yer sister.”

Anna smiled. “So am I.” She hesitated. “I remember the night it happened so vividly. Me maither screamin’, me leapin’ out of bed thinkin’ we were under attack, me faither behavin’ as if it wasnae a problem, and nae a single soul doin’ anythin’ to remedy Elinor’s fate. Nae one guard went after her. Sometimes, I’m angrier about that than I am about the actual grabbin’.”

“If I had a sister, I would be too,” Sophia agreed, furrowing her brow. “I daenae think me cousin would let that happen to me. Me faither certainly wouldnae. The pair of ‘em would be ridin’ out the moment they realized I was gone.”

Anna glanced at the pretty young woman and nodded slowly. “I can believe that.”

“Sorry,” Sophia mumbled, blushing a little. “I’m puttin’ me foot in me mouth again. Ye daenae want to hear things like that.”

“On the contrary.” Anna held onto Sophia’s arm tighter. “It delights me to see it—to ken that there are at least some households in the Highlands where lasses would be avenged if they were stolen away. I love me faither, but I think he was just glad he dinnae have to go to the bother of arrangin’ a marriage for Elinor.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “Do ye truly believe that?”

“Sometimes.” Anna gave a small shrug. “He’s never quite kenned what to make of his daughters. I think we’re a mystery to him. And, considerin’ how he ended up married to me maither, I suppose he thinks it’s… normal. Ye only ken what ye ken, and he was never raised to ken any better.”

Curiosity made Sophia lean in a little more, as if the two women were in a conspiracy. “Did yer faither ‘grab’ yer maither, then?”

“Aye, but it wasnae the same as what happened to Elinor,” Anna replied, after a moment’s pause, as the pair turned right down a narrow passage that barely allowed them to walk side-by-side. “Me maither and faither were aware of each other. They’d met at two or three gatherings, just in passin’. I daenae think they exchanged any words or danced or aught, but they kenned of each other.”

Sophia nodded in understand. “Yer faither wasnae a complete stranger to yer maither when he stole her from her bed, ye mean?”

“Exactly.” Anna swallowed uncomfortably. “But Elinor had never even seen Laird Dalmorglen. Most only ken him by his reputation. When she realized who it was who had taken her, she must have been… terrified.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sophia repeated, shaking her head. “That is just awful. Did the same happen to yer other sister?”

Anna sighed, thinking of Moira—always the luckiest of the three sisters. “She had a marriage arranged for her, and though it was a cold beginnin’ for them—mercy, the weddin’ was the most awkward occasion I’ve ever attended—they couldnae be happier now. They have two children, a wee lassie and a wee laddie, and she’s with child again, so she certainly has the blessin’ of fertility.”

Anna forced a laugh she didn’t feel, her mind leaping toward her own future. If she married Gordon at the end of this betrothal period, what sort of marriage would theirs be—happy, like Moira’s? Miserable, like Elinor’s? Or something in-between?

Was what just happened happiness, or somethin’ else?

Her body still thrummed with the residual rush of the pleasure that had seized hold of her entirely, like an enchantment had been cast upon her that had not yet worn off. The peak between her thighs remembered the glide of Gordon’s tongue, igniting little sparks every time the thought of it crept back into her head. And though the air was cool inside the castle, bordering on chilly, a flush of warmth continued to tingle her skin.

She shook off a fresh daydream, reminding herself that happiness was an internal feeling, not a physical one. Yes, laughter and smiles were physical, but true joy was innate. It didn’t have to be coaxed to the surface, mingling amidst a sea of gasping, moaning sighs in the privacy of a study; real joy was something to be displayed anywhere and everywhere, without shame or blushes.

“I daenae ken what will happen to me,” Sophia mused quietly. “I’m nae gettin’ any younger, but nay one mentions marriage.”

“Maybe that means ye’re free to choose,” Anna said.

Sophia nodded. “Maybe.”

“Ye daenae have a maither to help with such things?” Anna hadn’t encountered any women belonging to Gordon’s family, other than Sophia herself, so she wasn’t sure if it was something she should ask but, in the spirit of getting to know one another, she asked anyway.

A sad smile graced Sophia’s lips, as they came to the end of the long passage, that opened out into a circular hall of sorts. “Nay, unfortunately. She passed when I was born. Me faither never remarried.”

“What of… Gordon’s maither? Yer aunt? An aunt could help,” Anna said, suddenly curious.

Indeed, he doesnae seem to have either parent.

Sophia’s gaze dropped to the floor, her chatty nature silenced. A moment later, she raised her head again, smiling broadly. “ This is what I wanted to show ye!” she said, her voice a note too bright. “It’s one of me favorite places in the entire castle, and if ye ever need peace and quiet, this is where ye’ll find it. I daenae think anyone actually comes here anymore, other than me.”

Apparently, Anna wasn’t going to receive any answers to sate her intrigue, and she knew better than to press Sophia. It would be nice to have a friend in the castle; Anna didn’t want to chase this one off by asking too much, too soon.

I have five weeks to learn everythin’, she told herself. I shouldnae rush it all on me first day.

Leaving the matter of Gordon’s mother in the circular chamber, Sophia pulled Anna through one of three doors that were embedded in the walls.

What lay beyond brought Anna to a gasping halt, her eyes unable to take in the bombardment of beauty all at once. The room resembled a sea cave, formed of rough-hewn rock, cavernous and somehow ecclesiastical, as if nature itself had formed a cathedral. Slim windows offered glimpses of the wondrous ocean, but it was the glass dome that capped the room that caught Anna’s eye.

“Goodness…” she whispered reverently.

Stained glass in myriad colors spilled shimmering rainbow light down onto a floor of black stone, so highly polished that it gleamed like obsidian, reflecting that immaculate light back. Somehow, it created a sort of pastel haze, the entire space like wandering into a strange and magical world.

“I’ll never understand why nay one comes here,” Sophia said, beaming with pride. “I cannae get enough of it.”

Taking a tentative step forward, Anna looked around her with greater intent, drawing her attention away from the beautiful light and the elaborate dome. At first, it seemed to be some manner of sun room , designed for the peace and quiet that Sophia had mentioned. On closer inspection, however, Anna discovered its true purpose.

On the walls, between the slivers of window, were large rectangles, shrouded by drapes of thick, wine-colored fabric. Each had a cord that begged to be pulled.

“May I?” Anna asked, approaching the nearest.

Sophia nodded. “Of course. I imagine they’ll be glad of the attention.”

Uncertain of what that meant, but no less excited, Anna pulled the cord. The fabric rose up to reveal a rather startling portrait, so expertly painted that the figure in the frame seemed ready to leap out at her: an unknown gentleman with striking gray eyes, narrowed forever in a suspicious scowl, and a mane of silvery hair. The man’s lips were slightly pursed, as if in disapproval of whoever was observing.

“Extraordinary,” Anna murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the portrait. “If I was half as good as this, I would probably never have to marry anyone. I would be inundated with patrons.”

Sophia appeared at her side. “Ye paint?”

“I… draw,” Anna corrected shyly. “Badly, at that. I daenae do it to be good at it, much to me maither’s dismay. I do it to… calm me thoughts.”

Sophia nodded in understanding. “I sing to calm meself, though I am a terrible singer. That’s why I use this room for it—nay one can hear me.” She gestured to the windows. “It juts out from the cliff, ye see, so it’s quite apart from the rest of the castle, and the waves drown out any notes that might escape.”

“I bet ye’re nae as bad as ye think ye are,” Anna insisted. “Me braithers are the worst singers in the world, so ye can only be better than them. But… if ye daenae mind me askin’, who is he?”

Sophia smiled. “Cormac the Mad.”

“Mad?” Anna gulped, wondering if Gordon’s bloodline warranted investigation. There were outliers in every family, of course, but if there was a pattern then she wanted to know about it. Deserved to know about it.

The other woman giggled into her hand. “It’s just what I call him because he looks so furious. Does he nae?”

“Aye, he does look like the portraitist said somethin’ insultin’ just before he started paintin’,” Anna agreed, relaxing into a chuckle.

“If me history is correct, he wasnae a bad Laird,” Sophia continued, giving Anna the details of his reign as she moved to the next portrait and pulled the cord. “And this is Harold the Listless, for obvious reasons.”

Together, they moved around the beautiful gallery, Anna weeping with laughter as Sophia told her version of each former Laird, each name more amusing, more mischievous than the last, each tale of their endeavors becoming more ridiculous and outlandish. Anna relished every moment, feeling a thousand times lighter than when she’d left Gordon’s study.

So, it was rather jarring when Sophia pulled the second-to-last cord, revealing a smiling man with a twinkle in his gray eyes, and she did not offer any silly name or raucous tidbit.

“This is me uncle, Gregor,” she said instead, her voice catching. “I never kenned him, but people still talk of his kindness, his humor, his generosity, his courage. A lot like me faither. Runs in the blood, nay doubt.”

She moved on quickly, pulling the cord to the last unrevealed portrait.

“This lad ought to be familiar,” she said, stepping to the side.

Anna held her breath as she stared up at the final portrait: the current Laird of Lyall. Yet, if she’d wandered past it by chance, she might not have recognized it as the man she was betrothed to, the man who had done such wondrous things in the study, the man that she had drawn as a monster.

The man in the gilded frame seemed to observe her in return with two shining gray eyes, his expression a degree warmer than she was accustomed to. His lips weren’t smiling, but there was, perhaps, a slight quirk to the left side, as though he might smile at any moment. And though the features were the same as the man she knew—that strong jaw, those sharp cheekbones, that sloping nose, that full mouth—something seemed off… a distortion she couldn’t quite place.

Nay scars, she realized a moment later. Nay scars and two eyes.

“How young was he when this was done?” she asked, her hand resting on her chest, where her heart thudded a little faster.

Sophia shrugged. “It must be a decade old. He was, maybe, three-and-twenty.”

“His eye,” Anna said softly, the question sticking in her throat for a moment. “When did he… start wearin’ the patch?”

Making an odd sound, between a cough and a hum, Sophia fidgeted with the cuffs of her billowing sleeves. “Nae so long ago.”

“Does he… have an eye underneath it or is it gone?”

Sophia hesitated, before shaking her head. Although they had only just met, Anna sensed that that shake of Sophia’s head was the answer, not a dismissal of the question.

“What happened?” Anna pressed.

“If ye have questions,” a low voice interrupted, making Anna flinch, “ye daenae ask anyone but me.”

Gordon hadn’t meant to happen upon Anna and his cousin, but, after the events in his study, he had needed to find a place where no one would bother him. A sanctuary to clear his thoughts which, for obvious reasons, his study could no longer fulfill in that regard.

He had considered turning around and leaving, never letting either know he had been there, but the moment he heard Anna asking about his eye, the choice had been made for him.

“Gordon, I—” Sophia began to say, but he cut her off with a motion of his head.

Offering an apologetic smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder to Anna, Sophia pulled the cord, the fabric swinging back across the portrait. With that, she hurried out, leaving Anna and Gordon alone in the gallery.

“I dinnae realize I wasnae allowed to be curious in the company of others,” Anna said, her tone immediately defensive. “Am I nae allowed to visit yer library and read the histories of yer family, either?”

Gordon approached, grateful that Sophia had hidden that portrait from view. He had never liked it, even when it had more accurately reflected his appearance.

“I was just interested,” Anna added, a note softer.

Glancing at the other portraits that hadn’t been covered, feeling the gaze of his ancestors, Gordon took a breath. “Someone tried to kill me. I lived; it cost me an eye. That’s it. The story isnae exceptional.”

Anna nodded slowly. “I’m… sorry if ye thought I was pryin’, and I’m sorry for nae askin’ ye directly. I wasnae sure that I could but, now that ye’ve made that clear, I’ll be conscious of it in the future.” She paused. “Truly, I’m sorry. I meant nay offense.”

“None taken,” he replied simply, turning to leave.

Her voice gave him a reason to halt. “That’s all? Ye’re just… goin’?”

Why, lass—would ye like me to lay ye down on this floor, so ye can see the sky through the stained glass, thinkin’ ye’re truly in paradise as I make ye tremble and call out me name?

“I have things to attend to,” he said instead. “Take today to get used to the castle, so ye daenae lose yer way again. Tomorrow, prepare yerself.”

Anna’s throat bobbed, her eyes widening, her fingertips touching her lips as if remembering. “Prepare meself? For what?”

“Our first engagement,” he replied, resuming his exit.

“First?” she called after him. “But I told ye that the meal at the inn counted!”

Striding across the threshold, he didn’t turn or stop as he boomed his reply, “I’ve reconsidered.”

She’d asked for five outings or engagements before she made her choice about marrying him—after today, he’d realized there was no reason to rush through them. As far as he was concerned, the tally had gone back down to nought.