Sapphire Dream (37 page)
Authors: Pamela Montgomerie
“I’d spent hours finding the right basket, lining it with my mum’s favorite wildflowers and heather to set the swan upon. I’d left it on my desk, waiting for the best moment to surprise her. But when that moment came and I returned to my room for it, I found you instead. You’d dumped the basket and flowers onto the floor and were holding the swan in your hands. I was outraged and ordered you to leave my chamber.”
He blinked, seeing her as she’d been all those years ago. Cherub-faced and bonnie, her baby’s cheeks wet, her lashes spiked with tears. Fury flashing in those green eyes.
“You threw the swan at my head. The bird crashed against the wall instead, and broke. I wanted to hit ye so bad the tears started leaking down my face. I didna want anyone to see, so I fled and saddled my mare and left Picktillum alone. I was almost to Monymusk when I came upon a pair of the earl’s soldiers. They asked if I kent ye. If I knew where you were. I told them. I badly wanted them to take you away.
“I returned home a short time later to the sounds of shouts and screams.” Sweat broke out on his body as he remembered the sight of his father’s head. His mother lying in a pool of her own blood. The fire.
“My fault.” He released her to roll off the bed, unable to stand the feel of her against his rancid flesh.
But as he sat up, Brenna grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her words rang with harsh conviction.
“Wildcat, you don’t understand. It was her birthday. I killed her on her birthday.”
“You didn’t kill her.” She rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so tightly he thought she was trying to choke him.
But, no. It was the guilt choking him. He pulled her onto his lap and buried his damp face against her neck, desperate for her touch, her words, even as he knew she should hate him. God’s blood, but he hated himself.
“You didn’t kill her, Rourke. Think about it. The soldiers were already in Monymusk. They must have known I was at Picktillum.”
“The earl had soldiers scouring the countryside for you. ’Twas only one of many places they were looking.”
“You don’t know that. They’d probably followed the messenger who’d brought the news of my mother. You only confirmed what they already knew.”
“It doesna excuse what I did.”
“What you did was selfish and mean-spirited,” she said softly. “But it wasn’t evil and it wasn’t without justification. I’d ruined your precious gift. Broken it. You wanted to hit me and you didn’t. That was huge for a kid your age. You found a more mature way to handle it . . . for a ten-year-old. You tried to send me away. You had no way of knowing they meant to kill me. And even if you did, you were
ten
.”
ten
.”
A last shudder rolled through him as he realized she forgave him, crumbling the terrible weight of guilt he’d carried with him for so long. Could he ever forgive himself?
He rolled onto the bed, tucking her tight against his side as he saw that terrible day from a different angle for the first time. Through the eyes of a man grown instead of a horrified wee lad.
“I never meant for you to get hurt, Wildcat.” Idly, he stroked her arm. “You annoyed the cockles out of me when you followed me around. But when your attention was turned elsewhere, I enjoyed watching you. I admired your spirit. You were, even then, a bonnie wee thing.”
Her hand pressed lightly against his heart. “Is this why you’ve never gone home?”
“I couldna face my kin after what I’d done.”
“They never blamed you.”
“They didn’t know.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She touched his jaw with her finger. “Do you hate me still for breaking your swan?”
“Nay. You were but a wee ’un.”
“As were you. Just as you forgive the little girl who used to be me, you have to forgive the little boy who used to be you.”
She rose then and covered his mouth with hers. It was all the invitation he needed. He slid his tongue between her lips, drinking from the well he’d feared all but lost to him. The sweet nectar of her forgiveness swept through him, loosening the dam of self-hatred lodged in his chest. So many years of hating himself. So many years of blaming himself.
Could he let it go now?
And then her tongue met his and all he could think of was Brenna. It was she who’d released him. She who’d liberated him, even though she had every right to hate him.
His spirit soared and he gathered her to him, loving her with a force that stole his breath and threatened to crush his heart beneath its weight.
His wildcat.
She rose and straddled him, taking him deep inside her. He loved her with his body until they were both tired and sated, then held her tucked tight against him as she slept. With his last breath, he would protect her. With his last drop of blood he would see her safe. Yet, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave her behind when the sun rose. He’d fought for her right to go after her father and he respected her too much to take that away from her.
Deep in his soul, he knew she sought the final battle with the Earl of Slains. But
that
he would deny her. She would lead them into Castle Stour and aid in the rescue of her father. Then, God willing, return safely to her kin.
that
he would deny her. She would lead them into Castle Stour and aid in the rescue of her father. Then, God willing, return safely to her kin.
The final battle was his and his alone. A retribution that had been a long time coming. For all he’d stolen from Brenna and himself, the earl would pay with his life.
EIGHTEEN
Two days later, Brenna stood at the edge of the surf near the small beach where she and Rourke had swum ashore barely a week ago, watching Castle Stour. Over the course of their two-day journey from Fintrie Castle, her fear and anger had slowly melded to form a single hard knot just below her rib cage. She never thought she’d be calm as she faced the prospect of death, but that’s exactly what she was. Calm and deadly determined.
Rourke’s big hand cupped her shoulder, holding her tucked against his side to keep her steady against the rolling edge of surf that continually ensnared their feet. Moments before, the sun had set, but the light was still bright enough that she could see the cave’s entrance clearly.
“It’s there in the cliffs, just below the castle walls.” Brenna shaded her eyes from the lingering brightness, wishing she had a pair of binoculars. “A skinny upside-down triangle. It’s not facing us head-on, so it looks even skinnier from here.”
They’d come full circle, right back to where they started. They’d even approached the castle the way they’d left, taking the path between the surf and the sea caves. As a pair of seagulls soared by on the evening breeze, she turned to look up at Rourke, drinking in the sight of his strong profile, wishing things could have been different.
“I think I see it,” Rourke murmured. “The rock just below it looks like a nose sticking out.”
And it did. “Yep, that’s it.”
“Do you know the way to reach it, Wildcat?”
Brenna groaned. “No. But I was standing in the mouth and looked down to find a path leading toward the beach. Precarious, but it’s there.”
“ ’Twould help if you knew how to find it, Wildcat.” His voice was wry.
“Yeah, I know.” She hadn’t given much thought to the actual finding of the path. Especially in the dark. “It’s not going to be easy to locate or someone would have done it by now. But it’s the only chance we have.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find it.”
As they turned back toward the cave where Hamilton and Malcolm waited, she looked at him sharply. “Don’t even think about leaving me behind, Pirate. Getting into the cave isn’t going to get you into the castle. The door’s hidden. You won’t find it without me.”
He didn’t say anything, his big hand gently gripping her shoulder. But his silence confirmed that he’d at least considered tying her in a cave yet again.
She could hardly get mad about it, though. Not when she was practically spitting distance from the monster’s lair and Rourke had done nothing so far to hold her back. And she knew how badly he wanted to keep her safe. Just as badly as she wanted to protect him.
They made their way back to the sea cave where she and Rourke had briefly hidden a week ago when the bluecoats were chasing them. Hamilton and Malcolm had already opened the pack with their supper and were munching on cold pork and hard rolls.
Hamilton handed her a roll as she passed him. “Did ye find the cave?”
“Aye.” Rourke grabbed a slab of pork. “But not the path to it. Once it’s full dark, we’ll have to do some scouting.”
As she ate the quick meal, Brenna thought of the battle to come. For twenty years, she’d waited for this night without even knowing. Finding her father. Destroying the Earl of Slains as the prophecy foretold. She had to believe it would happen. She would fight to make
sure
it happened. Never had she been more ready for anything in her life.
sure
it happened. Never had she been more ready for anything in her life.
Brenna’s gaze went to her brother where he joked about how many bluecoats he could hoist on a single sword. Hamilton laughed. Rourke smiled. Men had strange senses of humor.
Over the past days’ ride, she’d come to know Malcolm a little better. He was still cool with her as if he blamed her for all that had befallen the Camerons. And she knew that he did. But she also sensed in him an inherent kindness and had seen evidence of an honor that she greatly admired.
As Brenna sat in the damp cave, tearing off chunks of pork with her teeth, she suddenly wanted him to understand. Especially if she didn’t survive. And if they did come out alive on the other end. Well, he was family.
When she was finished eating, Brenna washed her hands in the surf, then went to sit by her brother.
“We need to talk.”
He glanced at her, his eyes cool. “Aye?”
Brenna motioned deeper into the cave. “Will you come with me?”
She could see by the stubborn bend of his mouth that he wanted to say no. But Rourke came to her aid.
He slapped Hamilton on the back and rose. “While you talk, Hamilton and I have a wee bit of scouting to do, aye?”
As the two men left, Brenna sat on the rock beside Malcolm. “You’re angry with me. And it’s not just because I attacked you in the stables.”
Her brother only grunted, staring straight ahead.
“You blame me for all this, don’t you? The fire. Our father being taken.”
He finally met her gaze with a scowl. “You are a curse upon this clan and always have been.”
Brenna sighed, hearing the anger in his words, feeling the pain of it pierce her heart. “I’m not the curse, Malcolm. The prophecy is the curse.”
She turned until only one hip rested on the rock as she faced him. “Have you ever stopped to think what it was like for me? I was five . . .
five
. . . when I was torn from my family and exiled far away. Our aunt raised me until I was ten and then she died, leaving me completely alone with no understanding of where I belonged. No idea how to get home. I was ten years old and completely . . .
completely
. . . alone. I needed you.”
five
. . . when I was torn from my family and exiled far away. Our aunt raised me until I was ten and then she died, leaving me completely alone with no understanding of where I belonged. No idea how to get home. I was ten years old and completely . . .
completely
. . . alone. I needed you.”
Her voice broke and she turned back, sitting once more with her hands in her lap. “I needed all of you, but you didn’t come for me. You left me there.”
He turned to meet her gaze, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful. “We didna know where you were.”
“I know that.
I
didn’t know where I was. But I trusted my papa to find me. For years, I woke every morning hoping he’d finally come for me. But he never did.”
I
didn’t know where I was. But I trusted my papa to find me. For years, I woke every morning hoping he’d finally come for me. But he never did.”
“Ye were to have returned when you were grown.”
Brenna cocked her head with surprise. “Who told you that?”
“A wee little man, Da said. Came soon after ye left to say ye’d be back when you were grown.”
“Hegarty. He told Janie to bring me back when I was twenty-five.”
“We expected ye sooner. Da said lasses are grown by their thirteenth year. Every day, he prayed this would be the day you came back to him.” His voice turned bitter. “You are all he ever thought of.”
And suddenly she understood. In her absence she’d become a ghost, haunting those she’d left behind.
Other books
One Secret Summer by Lesley Lokko
Heiress Behind the Headlines by Caitlin Crews
September Girls by Bennett Madison
Dances with Wolf by Farrah Taylor
Keeping it Real by Annie Dalton
River Girl by Charles Williams
Hollywood Blackmail by Jackie Ashenden
Kings: Chaos Book 5.5 by Claire Farrell
Guardian of Eden by DuBois, Leslie
Fierce Pride by Phoebe Conn
