Flame

Chapter 17-1

17

Margaret’s hands quivered as they tried to raise the latch of the door behind her. Her darting eyes followed her brother’s impatient steps as he paced the small room. He came to a sudden halt.

“So you’ve decided to return to us at last.”

She pressed her back hard against the door and looked down at the rushes on the floor.

“Where were you, Margaret?”

She wiped her wet palms on her skirts, but never raised her eyes.

“Where the Hell have you been, Margaret?”

The vehemence in Allan’s voice caused her to cringe. Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze and looked into his angry eyes.

“Vaw...cuh...”

“Nay. Molly was there, but she said she hadn’t seen you.”

She shook her head and repeated her broken words. “Vaw...cuh...”

“You would never lie to me, now, would you, sister?”

The violent shake of her head was instantly followed by the tearing of her eyes.

“One of the stable lads saw you go to the chapel.”

Margaret crossed herself. “P...P...”

“Why do you redden so? Why, Margaret?” Allan’s hands fisted at his sides. “Were you with that dwarfish pig of a priest?”

She shook her head again and then looked at the floor. “Vaw...vaw...”

Allan unclenched a big hand and laid it on her shoulder. “He is as bad as the devil himself, sister. Do you understand that?”

Margaret reached up and took hold of his hand.

“I don’t want you to go near him. I don’t want you to have anything to do with him. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“We cannot allow anyone to cause us more pain. No one, Margaret. No one.”

Trembling, she nodded again.

Shoving another log into the crackling blaze, Gavin straightened up and turned, looking earnestly into Joanna’s troubled face. She was sitting at the head of his bed, her knees drawn tightly to her chest. Her chin rested on the blanket she’d gathered around her legs, and as he gazed at her eyes, he found them staring into a dark corner of the room. Even at this distance, he could see within them the flicker of troubled memories.

Moments before, she’d been perfectly happy in his arms. As long as they were making love or talking of anything but the past, her spirit had been alive, enchanting, soaring.

But as soon as he’d started asking the questions that they both knew he must ask, she had withdrawn, the magic of the moment broken, dragged to earth, subdued.

Gavin picked up the ewer of wine and the two full cups from the table before heading back to the bed. She looked toward him and met his gaze.

“There is still so much I need to learn,” he said quietly.

“Where would you like me to start? Do you want me to tell all of the horrible details of that fire? Do you want to hear how I escaped that hellish death when my family did not?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

Placing the wine and the cups beside the bed, he sat down next to her and moved beneath the blanket. Her icy feet touched his leg, and he could feel her shiver as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Sitting back against the carved headboard, he pulled her close to his side. Immediately, she nestled her head under his chin. It was a simple thing, this gesture of trust, but it wrapped his heart in a satisfying warmth.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” He brushed his lips against her hair. “I want to know everything.”

“You mean the first summer I came to Ironcross Castle?”

“Nay,” he responded, shaking his head. “Why not start even earlier. Tell me of your childhood.”

She turned her face up to his. “Are you asking this simply to put me at ease?”

He looked down at the small smile that now graced her lips. He bowed his head and kissed them. Her lips were soft, supple, and they parted invitingly. But before he allowed himself to deepen the kiss and forget everything else, he pulled back with a deep sigh.

“Joanna, there is so much about you that I want to know. After all, you are the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my wife.”

“Your wife. You mean you still...?”

Her words trailed off, but the frown that stole across her face, creasing her brow, told him quite clearly that she still had not yet come to grips with his proposal of marriage. But that was discussion for another time.

“Tell me,” he encouraged. “As a wee lass, were you as serene and timid as you are now?”

She snorted in response. “Serene and timid? Now those are words I do not recall ever hearing my mother or father use to describe me.”

“Of course not! How could I forget? You were an only child.”

“Aye. And not only that, but the last of the MacInnes line.”

“You must have been a hellion.” He grinned. “I can see you now, headstrong, obstinate, and contrary. Was that it?”

Joanna nodded as she nestled her head back onto his shoulder. “My grandsire Duncan died before I was born and my two elder uncles, Alexander and Thomas, never showed any interest in marrying. So, anyway, the whole family just treated me as their own darling.”

“So in addition to being ornery by nature, you were spoiled and pampered as well.”

“Aye, and worse,” she admitted. “My parents knew very little of what I did. They were perhaps a bit too consumed with one another, but they saw nothing wrong with giving me all that I sought. Between them and my two uncles’ endless indulgences, I’m certain I would have ended up ruined forever if it hadn’t been for my grandmother’s influence.”

“She does have an air of authority.”

“You know her?” Joanna asked with great surprise.

“Aye, she’s a grand woman. I met her before leaving for the Highlands to claim Ironcross Castle.” Gavin ran his hand caressingly up and down her bare arm. “She was the one who first introduced you to me, my little enchantress, though only through her wondrous descriptions.”

“Is she well?” Joanna asked softly, taking his other hand in her own. “It must have been crushing for her to hear of the death of my father and the rest of us.”

“When I left her, she seemed somewhat frail in body, though she has a spirit and a mind that more than make up for what she has lost with age.” Gavin listened for a moment to the rain. “There was nothing that she said in my meeting with her that led me to believe she’s ready to give up hope.”

“Hope?” Joanna asked, looking up at him with puzzlement. “Do you think she suspects someone survived?”

Gavin frowned. “I’m not certain she dared even to wish for such a miracle. But the way she talked—the way she convinced me to come to the Highlands—all made me believe that she still hoped that, at the very least, justice would be meted out to the ones responsible.”

Gavin caught the change in Joanna’s expression. He saw her eyes shift and stare intently across the room. Something he’d just said had struck a chord in her troubled memory.

“Does my description of Lady MacInnes fit what you recall of her?” he asked.

She turned quickly and nodded with a half-smile. “She always was quite determined, once she set her mind to something. As I said before, it was her influence and constant reproaches that set me on the right path. Did she say anything to you, when you last met...about me, I mean? Or about this castle?”

“I thought I was the one asking the questions.”

“You are,” she said softly, reaching up and smoothing the crease in his forehead with a gentle touch. “But after all I’ve learned in these months—I keep remembering certain things that she hinted to me in the years past. Looking back at it all—so much seems somehow related.”

“She asked me to look for your portrait. To speak the truth, I believe that picture was the only thing that she ever hoped to recover from this castle.”

She sat up straight in bed and turned to him. “Did she speak of anything else? Did she tell you about the disasters that have plagued our family?”

Gavin watched as her fingers fluttered nervously in his encompassing hands. “She told me of the ways that each of her sons died, and she said that the curse of Ironcross Castle lies not in the realm of ghosts and goblins. She spoke of the evil that haunts the place, but she said it is an evil that comes from the human heart.”

“And she convinced you to seek the truth.”

“Aye,” he nodded. “I have my own lands and my own people in the Borders. I never intended Ironcross Castle to be my home for good. The Earl of Angus gave me these lands—and I can see that the people here need a laird now to look out for them—but I never would have come to the Highlands had it not been for your grandmother’s visit.”

“Are you sorry that you have come?” she asked quietly.

He looked deeply into her blue eyes and answered truthfully. “I am indebted to your grandmother forever. She has introduced to me the warmth of the sun.” He brought her hand to his lips. “She introduced me to you.”

Joanna quickly turned her face away, but not before Gavin saw the tears that trickled down her flawless cheek. Reluctantly, he allowed her to withdraw her hand from his grasp, but he remained where he was, studying her beautiful profile and waiting for her to find her words.

In fact, he found his own throat dry, an unexpected emotion rising into his chest. His fingers ached to draw her back into his arms.

With an effort, Gavin tore his eyes from her and looked across the chamber at the fire. He simply could not allow himself to feel this way. All his life he had seen death claim those he felt the strongest ties to, and he’d sworn to himself that he would never again make that mistake. He was a warrior chief, a laird. He had duties to others and no need for anyone to be so close. Gavin never wanted to love or be loved again.

But here she was, wreaking havoc on his heart.

True, he thought, he’d offered her marriage. But the offer was based on what was right and honorable. Of course, Gavin mused, he had never experienced a physical attraction toward anyone that came even close to the lightning that fired his blood each time he so much as looked at her. But, in any case, the marriage he offered was suitable to their situations. She could not live like a hermit beneath this keep; their marriage would allow her to get back what was rightfully hers. After all, Ironcross Castle should be hers, in spite of the actions of the Lord Chancellor and the fact that Gavin now had taken possession of it.

But turning his gaze back to Joanna, he raised his hand to her silky skin and wiped away the glistening track of another tear.

All true, he thought. And all a lie.

“I still remember,” she said, breaking the silence. “After the first summer that I spent here at Ironcross, I returned to court and to my grandmother, full of life and tales of how much I loved the Highlands. Loved this place.” She dashed an escaping tear from her face with the back of her hand. “But her response was not at all what I expected. It stunned me with its vehemence.” Joanna considered for a moment, her face reflecting the memory. “She raged at me, and I knew it somehow had to do with my feelings for the Highlands, but I couldn’t understand the reason. My love for Ironcross and this country was nothing new; she herself had lived for some years among these people. I’d never before seen her so fierce in her anger.”

“And did she stay angry long? Did she ever explain the reasons for her behavior?”

Joanna’s brow knitted at the question. “Not right away, but her anger quickly subsided when I drew back from her, defending myself and this place. Then, inexplicably, my grandmother became almost frightened. I’d never seen her like that, either. She pleaded with me. Then, finally, she began to tell me the things that she would later tell you. About the deaths of my grandsire and my uncles. About how their deaths looked like accidents. But she called them murders.”

“Lady MacInnes never went so far in what she told me, though her meaning was clear enough. But did she ever speak to you of proof? Did she accuse anyone specifically? Was it your grandmother who accused Mater?”

Joanna stared silently for a moment. Gavin could plainly see the struggle that she was going through.