Flame (41 page)

“I believe you,” Gavin nodded. “After
Duncan’s treatment of you, it must have been easy for Allan to
imagine the past as he wished it.”

Margaret’s head now rested on Mater’s
shoulder, and the old woman supported her weight, running a gentle
hand through the weeping woman’s hair. “I should have seen it,
though, in the past. All those deaths...all the supposed accidents.
And it wasn’t only the lairds. Now so much makes sense. Whoever
offended him, or challenged him, they all seemed to just vanish. I
should have known.”

“‘Twas Allan who frightened the priest into
running away.” Gavin nodded. “And he killed Father William when he
found them returning to Ironcross.”

Margaret’s head lifted slowly and her eyes
teared again as they gazed into Mater’s. “Al...ki...Wi,” she
nodded.

“In Allan’s mind, his sisters were as sacred
as the saints.” Mater looked down at the frail woman in her arms.
“‘Tis was the reason why he never allowed Margaret to wed when she
was much younger. The killing of the priest had more to do with
William touching her than anything else. In Allan’s thinking, I
suppose, that was a crime punishable only by death.”

“H...ki...va...”

“He killed David as well,” Gavin repeated,
looking carefully at Margaret. “Athol had the stablehand watch this
loch when he saw Joanna’s possessions scattered about, but no one
ever saw the young man again.” He nodded toward the mute woman.
“But it seems Margaret may have witnessed the killing.”

The mute woman nodded slowly before returning
her head to her sister’s shoulder.

“On that full moon, the night when your
parents were lost in the fire...” Mater’s eyes rested on Joanna,
"that was the first time I sensed something gravely wrong in my
brother. He was restless, and yet jubilant, and for no reason that
we could see. ‘Twas his behavior before the gathering that caused
me to go back to talk to him afterwards. But by the time I came up
into the passageways beneath the castle, the south wing was already
ablaze.”

“I suppose I was traveling the same paths as
you,” Joanna whispered, staring at Mater. “But I must have fainted
in the passages of the south wing.”

“The smoke was thick enough to kill.”

Joanna and Gavin stared at her.

“‘Twas you, Mater!” Joanna whispered. “You
were the one who saved me from the fire. That was how you knew of
my burned hands.”

Mater paused a moment and then smiled grimly.
“Aye, Joanna. I brought you down here with the hope that you would
be safe. I went back to the Old Keep, but I couldn’t find Allan.
Everyone else seemed to be doing what they could to put out the
fire, so I came back to you. But by the time I returned with the
others to the loch, you were gone. Then, when you did not come to
me, when you decided to keep your existence secret, I feared that
you suspected us. I knew that I must leave you to find the truth
for yourself.”

“I could have died in those passages. But you
saved my life, even after all Duncan did to you. All of this comes
from the cruelty of my kin.” Joanna pressed. “If it were not for
the terrible sin against you, and Allan seeing it...”

“Nay,” Mater interrupted. “My brother would
have found another reason. ‘Tis all so much clearer now, my dear.
Even as a child, before ever witnessing Duncan’s act, he was far
too consumed with the past. ‘Tis a family trait, it seems.” The old
woman gazed over at the still body on the slab. “His actions, his
ways should have warned us long ago. While we were happy to
sacrifice a cock pheasant at the full moon, he wanted to kill a
dozen sheep. Now I know that he really wanted to be the high
priest--like in the old religion--the slayer who draws blood.”

Joanna gazed at the dead steward, his own
blood seeping onto the rock slab.

“We were blind to it.” Mater looked away.

“What do you want done with him?” Gavin
asked, holding Joanna tightly to his side.

“He is...he was my brother, and I will grieve
for him. I will pray for his soul. But I cannot forget that his
actions have forever stained the pure memory of our sisters. He
almost destroyed all we have strived for so long to remember...the
promise of the healing Power.”

Joanna felt the pressure of Gavin’s hand and
looked up and gazed into his dark eyes. The message was silent, and
she agreed.

The young woman left his side and moved to
Mater.

“Mater,” she whispered, quietly drawing the
old woman’s gaze up to her own. “Word of Allan’s actions, his ties
to the women of the abbey, need never leave this place. You have
done far too much for far too long to let one man’s fall tear open
the bond that unites so many.” Joanna linked her hands gently with
the gnarled bones of Mater. “Why not leave him with us? We will
bury him in the kirkyard and take care of all that needs to be done
here.”

It was a long moment before Mater nodded her
consent. “Will you come and see us?” she asked, looking deeply into
Joanna’s eyes.

“I will, and I’ll bring my husband with
me.”

Mater’s eyes sparkled as they glanced
approvingly to the giant Lowlander. “Aye, you’ll bring him to us.
And we shall welcome him as our laird.”

As the old woman and her sister turned to
leave, Joanna stepped back beside Gavin, taking his hands in hers.
In a single line the rest of the women followed their leader out of
the cavern loch. The cook Gibby, however, moved out of her place
and paused before the two.

“I should have known that Allan was up to no
good when he came himself and fetched your platter this noon.”

“And all along I thought it was your cooking
that laid me so low.”

The large woman blushed crimson.

Gavin smiled. “I thought it had to be
something like that. But whatever he added to my food wasn’t meant
to kill me, since I am already starting to feel my insides.”

The woman nodded in approval. “Get well,
laird, and I’ll cook you a meal that you will never forget.”

“Aye, I’ll hold you to that,” he said as she
joined the end of the line of women.

Joanna watched them until they all filed out,
and she and Gavin were all that remained.

“I could kill you, Gavin Kerr, with my own
two hands,” Joanna exploded the moment they were alone. “Of all the
stubbornness! I never witnessed anyone more obstinate than you.
Damn it, you are not even a Highlander. What did you think you were
doing, coming down here all alone?”

“Alone? Och, by the devil!” Gavin grabbed her
hand tightly in his own and began pulling her in the direction that
Allan had brought him in.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked,
grabbing the torch that the steward had dropped. “And what are you
going to do with that dead body?”

“I’m certain my three best warriors would be
delighted to come down later and carry him up for a proper burial.
But for now, my love, we cannot tarry here.”

Joanna began to run to keep up with his
lengthening strides. As they hurried through the passageways, she
pulled on his hand, slowing him a bit. “Gavin, did you suspect
Allan?”

“Aye, from the first time he took me into the
south wing and made sure I went into the chamber with the bad
floor. He placed some things of value, some books, where I couldn’t
help but see them. He wasn’t the only one I suspected, but I soon
saw that he was always absent when an attempt was made on my life.
Then, after the bridge was cut at Hell’s Gate, I knew it couldn’t
be Athol, and I knew that whoever it was had to be strong enough to
nearly shake us off those ropes.”

“Then why didn’t you stop him?”

“There was too much that I didn’t know. Too
many questions were still unanswered. I couldn’t even be sure if
Allan was acting alone, or as an accomplice to Mater and her
women.”

Joanna pulled on his arm, slowing him
further.

“Then I am glad that you waited,” she said
innocently. “It would have been horrible to hold them responsible
for a crime they didn’t commit.” She smiled and then shook her
head. “Honestly, to think how much damage we could have done
together, if we had been in agreement as well as being wrong.”

Gavin nodded with a grim smile. “Aye. There
wouldn’t be a soul left alive at Ironcross Castle. We would have
killed them all.”

Joanna shuddered with exaggerated horror, and
looked into the darkness ahead of them. “So where are you taking
me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Grabbing her hand, the Lowlander hurried on.
In just a few moments, though, as they neared the slaughter
chamber, her steps began to falter.

“What else is there, Gavin, that you haven’t
told me yet? Please don’t tell me that there are more dead bodies
waiting for us.”

He gave her a quick grin as they turned the
last corner. “I wouldn’t be that hopeful, my love. That would
really be far too much to ask.”

The sprawled figure of the Highlander lying
motionless by the door to the chamber brought a gasp to Joanna’s
lips. “Is he dead?”

“If I were only that lucky,” Gavin teased,
motioning for her to bring the light closer as he rolled the
Highlander gently onto his back. “Nay, he’s not dead. John Stewart
has too thick a skull to die from such a gentle tap to the
head.”

“Gentle...tap?” Athol groaned, his eyelids
fluttering before staying open. “My head has been split in two,
and...”

“You blackguard!” Gavin scolded, taking a
closer look at the gash to the side of the man’s head. The blood
had already started to harden at the cut, and a large, handsome
lump was forming around it. “This whole time, while Joanna and I
were saving the Highlands from the devil incarnate, you were up
here taking a nap! What happened to watching my back?”

“Is there...och, stop the room from going
around, will you?” Athol squinted at the two of them. “Is there
something wrong with your back?”

“You were supposed to be down here in case of
trouble?” Gavin prompted.

“Trouble? What trouble?” the Highlander
asked, forcing one eye to open wider. “Is there trouble?”

Gavin looked up into Joanna’s face and
smiled. “My prayers have been answered at last. I believe, with
this last blow, the good earl has indeed become an idiot, my
love.”

“Injured or not, you villainous dog, I won’t
have any Lowlander calling me ‘
my love
,’” Athol tried to
shout before wincing and finishing with a whisper. “By His Wounds,
I’ve a reputation to consider, you know!”

A gentle breeze played against the pillars of
the new abbey church as a silence fell over the gathering of
women.

The light of the full moon poured in through
the high windows on the side of the altar and blessed the three
people and the bairn in a soft, bluish glow.

Feeling the reassuring touch of her husband’s
hand on her shoulder, Joanna reached out and placed their sleeping
son into the outstretched hands of Mater. The abbess’s gray eyes
shone with affection as they looked down in the round face of the
slumbering bairn.

This morning Joanna and Gavin had watched
their child be christened in the font of the chapel at Ironcross
Castle. To their great delight, even Lady MacInnes had made the
long trek northward. Though frail with advancing age, Joanna’s
grandmother had put aside her fears and her bitter memories of the
past, and had accepted Elizabeth and Ambrose Macpherson’s offer to
accompany her on this trip. More than anything in the world, she
had wanted to be here with her granddaughter and witness the
baptism of her great grandson.

And tonight, Joanna and Gavin had brought
their son into the midst of their people for this second blessing.
The new church had risen out of the ashes of the old with the aid
of the Ironcross laird and his wife. These were now Gavin Kerr’s
people, and it would be a place of peace for the women of the
abbey, as well as for all the rest who were returning to the lands
and villages surrounding Ironcross Castle.

Tearing her eyes away from her son’s cherubic
face, Joanna looked up and caught her husband gazing lovingly on
her. Her heart swelled with all that she felt for him. He’d brought
her back from a life without a future, and warmed her with the rays
of the sun. She knew that the flames of love burned within him. He
cherished her beyond all others. And he had made her believe in the
power of living.

“Sisters...and brothers!” Mater cried out,
bringing Joanna out of her reverie.

“For the blessing of this child, we invoke
the Power!”

The congregation answered in unison. “Mater!
We invoke the Power!”

“For the healing peace this son of ours will
bring to our land, we invoke the Power!”

As the warm breeze wafted in through the open
door, Gavin and Joanna turned their gaze to the sleeping bairn in
Mater’s arms.

“We invoke the Power!”

Unlike our past works, in which we have tried
to combine the history and politics of the 16th century with
stories of love and passion,
Flame
is something a bit
different. This novel represents our effort to bring our readers a
dark and richly romantic tale, but one with a feel of Scotland’s
ancient, haunted castles--places with names like Fyvie, Cawdor, and
Lochidorb.

There are curses that transcend time. There
are ghosts who linger through the centuries.

And we are happy to admit that this book was
written in response to the many letters we received after
introducing Gavin Kerr in
Heart of Gold
. For those kind
souls among you who wrote to us and asked for Gavin’s story, thank
you. We certainly hope you have not been disappointed.

John Stewart will be the hero of our next
book,
The Dreamer (
Book 1 of our
Highland Treasure
Trilogy.)