Authors: May McGoldrick
Tags: #Romance, #Scotland, #Historical Romance, #Medieval, #Scottish Highlands, #highlander, #philippa gregory, #diana gabaldon, #gothic romance, #jane eyre, #gothic mystery, #ghost story
She tried to laugh off his question. “You
read so much into so little! Well, m’lord, you’re wrong,” She made
an attempt to shrug her way out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t
relinquish his hold on her. “Now let me go.”
“I am demanding that you, Joanna MacInnes,
tell me...”
“Nay,” she broke in, her temper flaring as
she thumped his broad chest hard with her fist. She might as well
have hammered the walls of Ironcross Castle itself. “You have no
right to demand anything of me.”
“I am the laird of these lands now.”
“Take Ironcross and be damned! That is
nothing to me.”
“You
will
answer my questions.”
“I will not,” she responded stubbornly,
matching his glare, “Not until you calm yourself and tell me what
cause
you
have for this anger.”
Gavin stared at her for a moment, and from
his look Joanna was certain he thought her daft.
“Well?” she probed, feeling the weight of his
hands still on her shoulders.
“You are the one who started all of this. You
are the one who wished to be hidden. And then, trying to bewitch
me...so soft and willing in my arms.”
Joanna felt her skin on fire at his words.
She had indeed practically thrown herself into his arms.
“You may think yourself clever,”
h
e
continued, easing his grip and once again running his hands more
gently down her arms. “You may very well be quite clever for
surviving as you have for all these months. But tonight that has
all come to an end. I have discovered you. You are alive and well,
‘tis time you stepped out of the shadows and told me what drove you
to such foolishness...”
“Foolishness?” she flared. He was humoring
her, treating her like an idiot who has no ability to think for
herself. “What do you know of any of this? I swear by the Virgin,
the only foolishness that I have committed in all this time, was to
come here and try to save your miserable life from those
flames.”
“You could very well have set the fire
yourself.”
Joanna’s eyes flashed as if she had been
slapped.
“Aye, you have been in and out of this
chamber for days now. You yourself just told me that you are the
only soul living in the caverns beneath this keep. Who else other
than you would have access to...”
“Many, you simple-minded brute,” she snapped.
“These passageways can be reached from a dozen rooms in this
keep.”
“But no one--not even the steward--appears to
know that they even exist.”
“And only a dolt of a laird will believe
everything that he is told.” She hit him on the chest again.
“Release me.”
“When I am done with you,” he said
arrogantly. “Are you telling me that these people--these
servants--know the ways and yet will not admit to it?”
“I am telling you that these passageways are
accessible even from outside of the castle...and that there are
many who come and go without your knowledge.” She paused. “And
there are some who bring death to your very door.”
“You mean other than you?”
“Other than me? You thankless knave!” She
twisted her body in his arms. “You are hurting me!”
Gavin’s eyes did not release her as he eased
his grip on her shoulder. “Who? Who are these people that you talk
of?” he asked.
“The same ones who, last fall, killed my
parents, along with innocent, unsuspecting serving folk.”
The sudden quiver in her voice made Gavin
stare more deeply into her blue eyes. They were so dark in the dim
light of the chamber, but they showed the anger and pain, the
intense sadness that lay curled like a snake around her heart.
“You know who killed your parents?” he asked
at last.
She nodded without hesitation. “Aye. I
know.”
“Then, why is it that you went into hiding?
Why wait so long to bring justice down upon his head?”
The flicker of sorrow that he saw her quickly
hide, was betrayed by the crystal droplets that pooled along the
lids of her eyes. Gavin watched her struggle to hold back the
tears. The mere mention of her loss and she had turned from a
lioness to a battered lamb right before his eyes.
“Why did you not come forward sooner, lass?”
he asked gently.
“I tried, but I could not bring myself to.”
Joanna brought a hand up to her face to dash away at a tear that
had escaped and lay like a diamond on her cheek. It was then,
before she could hide it again, that Gavin caught hold of her
bandaged hand.
To his great relief, she did not try to fight
him this time. The warrior chief stared at the loosely bandaged
hand in his grip. The strips of linens wrapped around the palm and
fingers only managed to cover parts of the damaged flesh. Patches
of red, scarred skin showed around the edge. Gently, he drew the
other hand from behind her back and examined that one as well.
Though the scars were healing quite well, he knew they must have
been extremely painful for some time after the fire. He looked up
and found Joanna’s eyes locked on the picture hanging above his
hearth.
“Now you know. I am not she.” Her voice was a
mere whisper. “The Joanna MacInnes that you see in that portrait
perished like the rest in that fire.”
What a blind fool he had been to not realize
the pain and suffering she must have endured to survive. Since
finding her alive tonight, he had not once voiced his sympathy over
the loss of her family nor thought to ask if she herself had been
hurt. Looking down again at the fingers that had now curled tensely
in his palms, Gavin raised one of her fisted hands to his lips and
placed a gentle kiss on the exposed, red skin.
She withdrew it at once. “Do not pity me,
Gavin Kerr.”
“There is no pity in what I do, lass.”
“Then why did you do...what you...”
Frustrated, she cut her words short and looked away.
“For the same reason that I kissed your lips,
your face. For the same reason I will kiss the rest of you as well,
if you give me the chance.” He took a hold of her chin and brought
her face around. It took great deal of control on his part to not
bend down and kiss her again. Her eyes were dewy with the emotions
battling within her, her skin glowing in the flickering embers of
the fire, her lips swollen from his kisses. But a hint of a smile
sat at the corner of her mouth. She had heard his confession.
“Seeing your bandaged hand,” he continued
gently, “reminded me how thoughtless I have been.”
She stared at him, a hint of bewilderment
evident in her face.
“I ask you, Joanna. Tell me about your life
here. How have you managed to live since...since the fire?”
She started warily. “That is not a tale for
one night, m’lord. Especially this night. As you can see, the sky
is growing lighter outside your windows, and dawn will be breaking
quite soon. You must release me, for I...I am so tired, as you must
be yourself.”
Gavin gazed into her eyes, reluctant to let
her go. If this were a matter of trust, he considered how tenuous
the thread was between them.
“You expect me simply to let you disappear
like a spirit of the night?”
She nodded.
“I fear that if I were to let you go, in an
hour I would wonder if you were ever here at all.”
“Would that be so terrible, m’lord?”
“Aye, lass.”
The deep violet blue of her eyes glistened as
Joanna stared into his face. At last, she nodded again.
“I give you my word that I will return to
you. You have a guest to attend to, but I’ll come back.” She
glanced around the chamber. “Perhaps then we can talk.”
To let her go was a foolishness, he knew.
Her words broke into his thoughts. “You now
know that I live. And as large and complicated as the caverns
beneath this keep might seem, I am certain if I were not to honor
my part of the bargain, you would be able to find me. But I will
not break my word.”
He continued to look at her. She could seduce
even a saint with that husky and alluring voice of hers.
“How do I know that you’ll be safe?”
Joanna tilted her head and peered at him, her
face grave, but her look impatient. “Considering the...the
accidents that have plagued you since arriving here, I should think
your
safety might be of greater concern to us at the
present.”
“Have you been getting enough to eat while
you’ve been in hiding? Has anyone been helping you? Bringing you
food? Clothes?”
“You did not hear me,” she said quietly, the
spark of anger again kindling in her eyes. “I told you
your
life
is in danger!”
“Aye, I heard you, lass. But you must answer
my questions if you expect me to let you go.”
She paused for an instant while studying his
stubborn expression. “I’ve been eating better meals since you and
your men arrived. And nay, no one knows that I’ve even survived the
fire. I am just one more ghost that wanders the halls and corridors
of Ironcross Castle. So you see, there is no danger awaiting me
outside of this chamber.”
The sound of the servants of the keep in the
corridor right outside of his room drew Gavin’s attention, and he
glanced at the open window. The first streaks of dawn were indeed
beginning to brighten the eastern sky.
“I will come back,” she whispered again. “I
promise you, I will.”
Gavin’s eyes flew back to her bonny face. He
couldn’t keep her here. He knew that. Molly and the other serving
women would be turning this room upside down--as soon as he stepped
out of it--cleaning up the damage caused by the fire. Of course, he
thought, he could always force her into the open.
The image of John Stewart, Earl of Athol,
staring longingly at Joanna’s portrait, came immediately to Gavin’s
mind.
“You will come back tomorrow night...I mean,
tonight,” he commanded with a growl that sounded more like a threat
than an invitation. “You will return immediately after everyone has
retired.”
She paused a moment, staring at him, her lips
pursed. Then, obviously too tired to argue, she nodded her assent.
“If you wish.”
“I do,” he muttered. He started to step aside
to allow her to pass, but then he paused. “What happens if I need
to get hold of you before then?”
“But why should you?”
“In case...how should I know? I simply want
to know!”
Gavin scowled, and then watched her eyes
glance about the room as she tried to think of an answer. She could
take all the time she wanted, as far as he was concerned. The fact
that she was alive, standing before him, all seemed so unreal,
somehow. He just wanted to stare at her, study her, to drink in the
pleasures of this enchantress who made him feel once again like an
abbey school lad.
Too soon, her eyes brightened and returned to
his. “If you ever
need
to get hold of me, go and see the
priest, Father William. Have him take you to the underground
crypt.”
“I have seen it.”
Joanna peered at him uncertainly. “You
have?”
“Aye, he took me through the chapel when I
first arrived.”
Her face cleared as she shook her head. “Nay.
There is another crypt, with tombs far older than the one you have
seen. This one lies deep in the ground--far beneath the castle
walls. The chaplain will know of an outside entrance to the place.
Get him to take you there.” Joanna glanced nervously at the door as
the sound of steps making their way down the corridor could be
heard. She lowered her voice. “When you get there, just send the
priest back the way he came, and then I’ll come to you.”
“But how will you know that I am there?”
She edged around him. “I am very much attuned
to that room. Trust me, if you should need me, I will be
there.”
As much as he wanted to, Gavin did not try to
stop her as she moved quickly toward the panel in the wall.
“One more thing before you go,” he said,
drawing her gaze. “Who set the fire that killed your parents,
Joanna? You told me that you know the murderer.”
Her eyes bored into him as she stood by the
open section of the wall. Her voice carried the note of absolute
conviction.
“Mater,” she answered. “Mater killed
them.”
Down the hill, by the edge of the thick grove
of trees that ran the length of the glen, Allan was supervising the
butchering of the buck and the two does they had taken. Leaning on
his hunting lance and holding his steed’s reins, Gavin looked on
vacantly as the steward tossed scraps of the kill to the waiting
dogs.
Joanna MacInnes had lost her mind. How could
she not? he mused, thinking back on their meeting, and on her
parting words prior to disappearing from his bedchamber as the dawn
threatened.
It was certainly understandable that a young
woman would be distraught and overwrought with grief after such a
tragedy. But to live as she had been living for the past six
months! The loss of her parents in such a fire--under such
circumstances--could easily have tipped the balance of anyone’s
reason. That must be it, he thought. It certainly seemed likely, at
least, when one considered that in the aftermath she had willingly
chosen a hermit’s life for herself, shunning all human contact, and
then conjuring up some wild idea about that harmless old woman
somehow committing a murder of such heinous proportions.
But she certainly did not look mad, he
thought.
If he’d only taken more time this morning to
question Joanna about her accusation, before she had simply stepped
back into the passageway and vanished into the darkness.
And if it hadn’t been for his scurvy
blackguard of a guest, he would have gone after her. It was a
blasted devilish thing to have company who intrude on you when you
least want them about, Gavin thought, steadying his restless horse.
The damned earl was planning to stay through the week, and short of
openly insulting the arrogant bastard--and starting a neighborhood
war--the Lowlander didn’t quite know how to cut the other man’s
visit short.