Flame

Chapter 1

1

Stirling, Scotland

“It’s a death wish to go there, Gavin, and you know it.”

Gavin Kerr pretended to ignore his friend’s angry concern. Moving from one painting to the next, the black-haired giant continued to study the splendid canvases adorning the walls of Ambrose Macpherson’s study.

“At least a dozen deaths in the past half year,” Ambrose growled. “Think, man. The last laird and his family died miserable deaths in that hideous pile of rock. By the saints, Gavin, no laird of Ironcross Castle has died of old age for centuries."

“Ambrose, your wife has an astonishing gift...”

“We were discussing your foolishness in going to Ironcross just now,” Ambrose interrupted.

“Aye, but these faces touch me nearer to the heart.” Gavin reached up as if to run his fingers over the swirling colors of the canvas. In the portrait, a young child’s face glowed as she looked lovingly at an infant in her arms. “Bonnie Jaime! She’s grown so much since I saw her last. And Michael, already a strapping lad...”

Ambrose leaned on the table that separated the two of them. “Gavin, we are not discussing Elizabeth and my children. We’re here to talk you out of accepting this curse of a gift that the Earl of Angus has bestowed upon you. Can’t you see, the Lord Chancellor is trying to be rid of you?”

“Nay, Angus would have no trouble thinking of easier ways of disposing of me than by making me laird of a Highland castle.” Gavin ran a hand over his chin before moving to the next painting. “Though I should consider this reward more of a dishonor, considering the natural dislike I have for all Highlanders. With the exception of your family, of course,” he added, grinning over his shoulder.

As the Ambrose opened his mouth to speak, the door of the study opened and Elizabeth Macpherson walked quietly into the room. Like a full moon rising through the night sky, the young woman’s entrance brightened the dark features of her husband’s face.

“I see my prayer that you two might have settled this dreadful affair by now was for naught,” she scolded with a smile. With a slap to Gavin’s arm, Elizabeth moved around the table and nestled comfortably against her husband’s side.

The news of his preferment had spread quickly through the court, so Gavin was hardly surprised at Elizabeth’s sudden entrance. His friends clearly intended to overpower him with this show of force.

“To suit you, Gavin Kerr,” Elizabeth said, “I’ve already had black cloths drawn across the windows at this end of the house—to shut out all light—and had the children moved to the west wing of the house—to eliminate any other signs of life.”

“To suit me, Elizabeth?” Gavin repeated. “I cannot stay.”

“But you are staying,” the young woman said matter-of-factly. “I assume the only reason for you to abandon your own lands and go to Ironcross Castle is that you are once again seeking to withdraw from the world.”

“You mean, my love," Ambrose put in, "that this pig-headed Lowlander is once again beset by those dark and melancholy thoughts in which he retreats from all decent folk, hating one and all...and himself.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Aye. So I thought to myself, handsome as he is in his new kilt, there certainly can be no need for him to travel so far into the wild and dangerous northern Highlands. After all, we could provide him with the same misery—I mean, the same hermit’s retreat—right here with us.”

“You will not be swaying me from my decision to go.” Gavin looked gently at the two before him. Elizabeth’s swelling stomach spoke of the imminent arrival of their third child. “You’ve enough to be thinking about, as it’s. And my men are ready. A message has been sent to Ironcross Castle and to my neighbor, the Earl of Athol. I’m expected there a fortnight from now, so whatever you two say will make no difference.” He paused before continuing. "Besides, it’s not my wish to become a hermit, nor any desire to die that compels me to go to that castle. But there is something.”

Gavin hesitated, considering his next words, knowing that the truth would hardly make them worry less. After the devastating loss at Flodden Field, he had been left with no family, and there was no one closer to him than the two people. And he also knew that their concern for his well-being ran much deeper than his own.

Gavin started again. “A noblewoman came to me a fortnight ago. At the time I was still considering the Lord Chancellor’s offer of Ironcross Castle. This woman who came to see me was old and infirm. She said you would remember her, Elizabeth. Lady MacInnes.” Gavin paused as her expression softened, and Ambrose put a comforting arm around her. “Even before meeting her, I knew that Ironcross Castle was a MacInnes holding, that it had been in her family for years, but she told me that after the latest tragedy, she said, Ironcross could crumble to dust.”

Elizabeth slowly eased herself into a nearby chair. “Last summer she told me a horrible tale of losing a husband and two sons in a number of strange accidents on castle lands.”

“Aye. All her men folk but one,” Ambrose added grimly. “And she lost the third son in that fire, too, since then. Along with his wife and daughter.”

Gavin nodded gravely in acknowledgment. “Aye. She told me that her granddaughter had been very fond of you.”

“I shall always remember Joanna,” Elizabeth whispered. “She was so full of life. A truly lovely young woman. And strong. Ready for whatever life might bring. She was to wed this spring—to the Earl of Huntly’s nephew, James Gordon. But all that is finished now. A life’s dreams gone in an instant.”

“The reason for Lady MacInnes’s visit, my friends, was not so much to retell those tragedies, but to ask a favor of me.” Gavin Kerr turned and looked again at the paintings hanging on the wall. “She said that her granddaughter came to you to sit for a portrait last summer.” He turned and found Elizabeth’s gaze upon him.

“Aye, that she did,” she answered. “And they took the portrait to Ironcross, I understand.”

Gavin looked steadily at his two friends. “The old woman wants the painting. She’s too old, she says, to make the journey to Ironcross Castle, even to visit their tomb. She cares nothing for what’s left of the castle. She has no concern for what I do with it. The only thing she asks is that if the painting of her granddaughter escaped the flames, she’d like me to have it conveyed to her.”

Ambrose looked at the Lowlander intently. “If that’s the sole reason for you to go, then you can send a messenger and a group of your men to see to the task. There is no reason for you...”

“But there is a reason for me to go,” Gavin interrupted. “There was something else she said that started me thinking, that made me decide to go there myself.”

He paused. The two before him stared in silence, awaiting his next words. “Lady MacInnes says that although it is unnatural how many of her kin have died there, she still believes that the curse of Ironcross Castle lies not in the realm of ghosts and goblins. There is evil there, she says, it’s true. But the evil is human.”

Gavin let out a long breath. “It’s time someone sought the truth.”