Chapter Seventeen

 

At gloaming, snow flurries still flittered through the air as Colin stood in the burial ground, by his father's grave. They had ridden three hours and arrived back moments ago. Bryce and most of the other men had gone inside the castle walls. Four guards, including Warton and Rusty, stood around Colin at a distance of twenty paces, giving him the privacy he needed. The other two had been his father's bodyguards, but now, since Colin would soon be inaugurated as the new chief, they were assigned to guard him.

He stared at the simple wooden cross with his father's name cut into it. Soon it would be replaced with a carved sandstone grave slab befitting a chief. He stared at the black sod and the dried heather and greenery his mother had placed there. He knew his da lay beneath, but was still unable to fully comprehend it.

"I'm sorry, Da," he whispered. "I let you down. I allowed our enemy to come back here and massacre you." Regret speared him. "If only I'd been thinking… If only I'd realized…" But, nay, Kristina had snagged all of his attention at Bearach. He had been so taken with her, he'd been able to think of little else. He felt like such a daft fool.

No more. He would dedicate his life to bringing his da's murderer to justice.

"Riders approaching!" Warton announced.

The four guards closed ranks around him. "Mayhap we should escort you back to the castle," Rusty said.

Colin glanced down the hill, seeing a party of three dozen or more people arriving, most on horseback. They appeared in no hurry, or maybe their horses were tired from a long trek.

Colin shook his head. "'Tis not Holme. He wouldn't have that many men."

As the party increased its pace and moved closer, he saw Neacal and his men, along with the MacKenzies. And several women?

"What the devil?" Narrowing his eyes, Colin glared. Aye, some of the riders wore long skirts. Surely Neacal hadn't brought Anna and… "Kristina," Colin whispered. Indeed, she was on the horse beside Anna's. Why had she come? He muttered a curse, feeling gutted once again. Why did she wish to rub salt in his wound? Dangle before him the very thing he wanted most in the world but could not have?

Mayhap she has changed her mind.

The ridiculous thought teased and taunted him, near making him lightheaded. She had already ripped out his heart. Putting it back into his chest was not going to be such an easy task.

 

***

 

As Kristina and the others in their party approached Rhodie Castle, she barely discerned the blurry forms of men on a hill in the distance, near a small stone kirk with a steeple. She squinted, trying to see better. They stood in the burial ground, surrounded by many grave slabs and tombstones.

Her heart drummed hard with the tumultuous combination of nervousness and excitement, because she might see Colin for the first time within a few moments—but also with sadness because of his loss.

With the snowflakes flickering in the twilight, 'twas too dim and indistinct for her to see clearly. And even if she could see the men, she wouldn't know Colin on sight. Still, she had a gut feeling one of the men was him, visiting his father's grave. She had so wanted to be here to support him during the funeral and burial, but that had been impossible. They'd traveled as quickly as they could after hearing the tragic news.

Minutes later, as they approached the kirk-yard, the five men strode away from the new grave and exited the burial ground through the gate. Melancholy consumed her as she recalled, yet again, that she would never meet his father, whom he'd held so dear.

Even though she'd never seen Colin with her eyes, only with her hands and her heart… and in her dreams, she knew which man he was. The only one who drew her attention. The only one who stared directly at her. Tall and handsome with sandy hair. Although she could not quite perceive his expression, she felt his dark and tormented pain, and it near broke her heart. She hung her head and stared at the snow-dusted ground, feeling something powerful in Colin calling out to her, raking through her soul.

She refused to look at him now, although she wanted to more than anything. Nay, she wanted to tell him in private about her returned sight and didn't want him to find out before then. She hoped he would be glad. Her heart rate sped up, and her icy hands sweated within her gloves as she held the bridle loosely.

When footsteps approached, she felt his anguish even more. Her ability to detect others' feelings had amplified during her years of blindness.

"Thank you for coming, Neacal." Colin's voice slid down deep within her, bringing her soul to life, but at the same time, his grief frayed her control. The wind chilled the tears welling in her burning eyes. She watched the men from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry we're late." Neacal dismounted and gave Colin a warrior handshake. "I wish we could've arrived before the funeral, but the ladies wished to come and pay their respects, too. We could not travel as fast."

"'Tis understandable. I'm glad you've all come." His voice was deep and desolate, devoid of all cheer. Kristina had never heard this tone of voice from him before.

"Your father was a great man, Colin," Neacal said. "And a revered chief."

"I always thought so, and I thank you."

"You have my sympathies." Cyrus MacKenzie shook his hand, as did his two brothers, who had also dismounted.

"Have you found Red Holme?" Neacal asked.

"Nay."

"We're here to help," Cyrus said.

"I appreciate that. Come, let's go to the keep and get out of this snow," Colin announced. "You must all be tired and hungry."

Kristina was disappointed, but not surprised, that he hadn't come closer and spoken to her, to allow her to express her condolences. Inching her line of sight upward, Kristina allowed herself to look directly at Colin's back as he walked away, toward the Cameron horses, his guards following.

Colin's shoulders were broad, but now slumped, as if the weight of the world rested upon them. She understood how he felt, for she had lost her own father a few years ago. Everything had changed after that. Not only had she lost her dear sweet da but also her home, when a distant relative had inherited and asked her and Anna to leave.

Now she wanted to be here for Colin. She wished she could hold him and comfort him in some way. But she was unsure whether he would even want it.

They rode the short distance through the snow and toward the castle's portcullis, which was quickly raised, and into the bailey.

Kristina admired the way Colin's tawny hair gleamed in the torchlight, lying upon his shiny chainmail armor. What an extraordinary man he was. She prayed that he would forgive her and accept her back into his life.

They halted, and all the men began dismounting. Neacal helped Anna to the ground and then Kristina.

The bailey was so crowded, she did not know where Colin was. She wanted to speak to him forthwith, to let him know her vision had returned before someone else told him, and before he figured it out.

Anna spoke beside her, "I'm sorry for the loss of your beloved da, Colin."

"I thank you."

Kristina stood frozen in surprise, for she hadn't known he was so near. She wanted to look at him so badly, but dared not yet, not until she could tell him of the miracle. With her eyes still closed, lingering in the safety of the familiar darkness, Kristina waited, tears flooding her eyes and trailing down her cheeks, growing icy in the cold wind.

"Lady Kristina, I thank you for coming." Colin's hard, dark voice was so close in front of her. Dare she look at him now? Her heart thundered with fear.

She reached a trembling hand out to him and he took it. "I'm so sorry, Colin." Sorry for everything. Sorry he'd lost his father and that she'd broken his heart.

He kissed her gloved hand "Shh, don't cry, lass," he whispered, then walked away.

"Wait," she called out, but he didn't. "I must tell him now," Kristina whispered to Anna. "I don't wish him to hear it from someone else, nor discover me staring at him."

"Colin," Anna called out, then waved.

"Just a minute."

"He is speaking to Warton," Anna whispered. "I'm sure he will be here in a moment."

At least he had spoken to her with kindness and kissed her hand, but Kristina still felt unworthy of him. He should have a beautiful, perfect bride, someone with unmarred skin. But every time she thought of that, she wanted to rip the hair from the perfect lass she visualized in her mind. Apparently, she had a possessive side she'd never known about until now. Aye, she wanted Colin for her very own. But she also wanted the best for him. She wished him a happy life and didn't know if she would make him happy. She did not want to disappoint him. What if his clan could not look at her scarred face without feeling disgust? What if they hated her?

What if Colin never trusted her again?

 

***

 

Striding across the bailey, Colin felt an intense mixture of emotions such as he'd never felt before, not the least of which was anger at himself. Why couldn't he simply ignore Kristina? Why did he allow her to affect him so profoundly?

He could hardly believe she was here. One part of him wanted to talk to her longer, to find out why she'd come. Another part dreaded the moment. His heart thudded with excitement as he approached the two ladies. Anna watched him, but as he drew near, she moved toward Neacal a few yards away. Clearly, she wished to give them privacy, but he was unsure if he wanted it. He could not allow himself to be drawn under Kristina's spell again. He had to keep his wits about him, stay sharp, and catch Red Holme as soon as possible.

But, hell… Kristina looked even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her. She wore a dark cloak with a cowl over her head. The snowflakes sparkled in the torchlight.

"You wished to speak to me, m'lady?" Not wanting her to know how she disturbed him, he tried to keep his voice impersonal.

She raised her head, and their gazes locked. What the devil? Her eyes were not vacant or staring into the ether. Saints, but she was looking at him! He frowned as he searched her eyes… and she searched his. Though tears glistened on her lashes, she watched him closely. The sensation was so startling, he felt as if a cannonball dropped onto his stomach. Had she deceived him the entire time? Had she been able to see from the first?

"Can you see?" he blurted.

"Aye, 'tis what I've come to tell you, Colin, along with paying my respects."

"How? When?" His voice was perhaps more demanding than he'd intended.

"'Tis either a miracle or a reaction to that last blow to the head Holme gave me. A few days after my headache went away, just after you left, I saw a flash of light, and then candle flames. Each day since then, my vision has improved."

"Saints," he hissed, hardly able to breathe. Her blindness had been her excuse for rejecting him. Did this mean…? Hell, don't even think of it, he told himself.

Her bewitching blue gaze was still locked on his, her pupils dilated in the dim torchlight. "Most things are still blurry, especially at a distance, but I'm starting to see better close up."

He was shocked speechless. He still didn't see how it was possible. "A miracle?"

"'Haps. Or the injury."

"Aye." He remembered… and still blamed himself for that, too.

"Enough about me," she said. "I'm so sorry you lost your father. I want you to know I'm here for you if you need to talk. As you know, I lost my father several years ago."

Colin nodded. "I'm sorry you lost your father, too," he said, simply to cover his sudden annoyance and discomfort.

"I thank you."

"Are you going to introduce me, brother?" Bryce said beside him, dragging him from the spell her eyes had cast over him.

"This is my younger brother, Bryce," Colin said, then motioned to Kristina. "And this is Lady Kristina."

Bryce bowed over her hand and kissed it. "So, you are the renowned Lady Kristina who Colin is so secretive about."

Colin ground his teeth. "I haven't been secretive."

Bryce smirked.

Kristina glanced at him with uncertainty. Saints, he could not get accustomed to the fact that she could see. The awareness in her gaze reached deep into his soul. It felt as if he were connecting with her on an even more profound level than before. He could stare into her expressive blue eyes forever.

Colin glared at Bryce. "I'm certain the lady is exhausted and hungry. I'm going to escort her into the great hall, that is, if she would like."

"Aye. And it was wonderful to meet you, Bryce."

"A pleasure." He gave an abbreviated bow.

She slipped her arm around Colin's, and they headed toward the steps. Through his clothing and chain mail armor, he relished the gentle pressure of her hand on the inside of his elbow. His body stirred in response, which infuriated him. Why was his body enslaved by hers?

"You have a beautiful home," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din in the great hall as the servants and clan prepared for supper.

"I appreciate it." Colin was surprised to find his mother coming toward them.

"My maid told me Neacal had arrived with his new bride." His ma offered a small smile, the first he'd seen on her face since he'd been back.

"Aye."

She glanced at Kristina, who still held his arm, and he prayed Ma wouldn't mention Kristina's scar.

"And who is this lovely lass?"

"Meet Lady Kristina. She is Neacal's wife's sister. Kristina, this is my mother."

"I'm glad to meet you, Lady Cameron." Releasing his arm, Kristina leaned in and kissed his ma's cheek. "But I'm so sorry for your terrible loss."

"I thank you. And please call me Hester."

Colin moved aside and turned, finding Neacal and Anna behind them. "This is Neacal's new bride, Anna."

Neacal, Anna and his mother exchanged greetings. She then met Maili.

Kristina still stood close beside him. His mother looked pointedly at the spot where Kristina's elbow brushed his arm, then glanced up at him and gave him a wee mischievous grin. How could she be smiling in the midst of grief? Was she that glad to see that a lass was interested in him?

"'Haps you ladies would like to refresh yourselves before supper," Colin said, hoping to draw his mother's attention away. "I'll see if I can find the housekeeper." He glanced across the great hall and spotted the plump, middle-aged woman. "Mistress MacAuley," he called and lifted a hand.

She hastened toward them. "Aye, Master Colin… I mean, m'laird."

To Colin, that form of address was like a kick in the gut. His father was still supposed to be the laird.

When he hesitated a moment too long, his mother spoke up. "Could you please find rooms for the ladies and see that they are well taken care of?"

"Of course. Come, my ladies, I have just the rooms. They were cleaned yesterday after some of the guests left."

Anna, Kristina and Maili followed her up the steps.

His mother gave him an oddly curious look, then walked away. He had not mentioned his association with Lady Kristina, but she must have figured it out. His mother was ever insightful.

Colin turned to Neacal. "Would you like some ale before supper?"

"Aye."

Seeing a kitchen maid nearby, he said, "Could you bring some ale into the library?"

"Aye, m'laird." She curtsied, then rushed away.

Colin headed toward the library. "Where are the MacKenzies and Ralston?"

"Talking to Bryce in the bailey."

After the maid brought a pitcher of ale and poured two tankards, she left.

"I truly appreciate your making the journey here, Neacal. It couldn't have been easy in this weather, especially for the ladies."

"I didn't want them to come, but they insisted. And I hate that the visit is due to such a tragedy."

Colin nodded, still feeling consumed by grief, but at the same time glad to see Kristina, Neacal and the rest of his friends.

Neacal raised his tankard. "To your father—may he rest in peace. And to you as the new chief."

"I thank you." Even though he felt undeserving of such a lofty role, he would keep that to himself for now. Colin clunked his tankard against Neacal's, then drank. After seeing Kristina, he needed whisky, but this ale would have to suffice since he hadn't eaten in several hours.

Colin motioned toward a chair, then took a seat himself. "How fortunate Lady Kristina has regained her sight."

Neacal sat. "Aye, 'tis a miracle. I only found out about it days ago. Anna said Kristina didn't want anyone to know at first, afraid it was temporary."

Colin stared into his ale, feeling more confusion and conflict than he should. "I'm happy for her."

"Truly?" Neacal gave him a skeptical, questioning look.

'Haps Colin sounded less than happy, but 'twas difficult to be enthusiastic when he had never felt such grief and heartbreak. He simply wished he knew what was on her mind. "Why did Kristina come?"

"To pay her respects and tell you she can see again." Stating the obvious, Neacal raised a brow.

"Aye, but are those the only reasons?" Colin dug deeper, for he sensed his friend holding back.

"At Bearach, I suggested she write you a letter, which I would deliver." Neacal shook his head. "She would have none of it. She insisted she must come here and talk to you."

Colin exhaled a tired breath, trying to release some of the tension. "I don't know if she told you but… before I left Bearach, I asked her to marry me. She refused."

Neacal frowned. "She told Anna, who told me. I was deeply disappointed to hear of it. I know you have strong feelings for her."

Damnation! How he wished he could control those strong feelings. "Did she give you any further clues as to what's on her mind?"

Neacal avoided his gaze. "You would need to ask her."

His friend knew something more, blast him. If she'd changed her mind about marrying him, Colin was tempted but… "I cannot allow her to take my focus away from capturing Holme."

"'Tis not my place to speak for her, but I don't believe that's her intention."

"Of course not." Annoyance grated at Colin. "That's simply what she does to me. She drives me mad and distracts me. 'Tis why I stayed at Bearach too long and allowed Holme to come here and kill my father. If only I'd started home the next morn after I delivered Kristina to Bearach, my father would still be alive." Allowing his fury to burn beyond his control, Colin now felt the mad urge to throw his tankard against the stone fireplace. Instead, he placed it on the table, arose and paced.

Neacal shook his head for a long moment, looking saddened. "'Tis not your fault. You cannot blame yourself."

"But I do, a thousand times over."

"You had no inkling Holme was coming here."

"I should've guessed," Colin growled. "If only I'd been in my right mind instead of thinking about Kristina every moment."

Neacal blew out a breath. "Well… I ken how you feel. I blame myself for my father's death, too. He died because of the injuries he sustained in rescuing me from that torture chamber. But I've been able to forgive myself. I think my da would want me to do that and get on with my life. We cannot go back and change the past."

Grief ripped at his heart yet again. "But I wish I could, more than anything."

"Aye, me too. But life is not perfect. We must learn our lessons and go on."

Feeling dejected, Colin slumped onto the chair. "I do not ken how to."

Neacal leaned forward. "I'm here for you, brother. For anything you need help with."

Even though they were not brothers by blood, they certainly were by spirit, as well as foster brothers.

"I appreciate that," Colin said. "I already told the elders I won't go through with the inauguration until Red Holme is dead or captured. If I cannot succeed at that, I don't deserve to be chief."

"You will. I have no doubt of it."

Colin shrugged. "I can only hope." He shook his head. "I cannot get used to being called laird or chief. That title has always been my father's."

"I felt the same way the first few weeks. I never expected to be chief," Neacal said. "'Twas supposed to be my older brother's position. When he was killed in that raid, I was ill prepared for the role. Plus, half the clan and most of the elders were against me early on, but I have blundered through."

"You're doing a fine job leading your clan."

"And you will, too. Your da taught you well. He taught both of us much when we were lads."

Colin's chest ached so deeply he could hardly draw breath. "I miss those days."

"As do I, but the present can be just as good, if you let it. I had to accept that the past is in the past and all I have is the present. Either I can give up and amount to naught, or I can do my best, keep my head up, and look the future. Anna helped me gain the will to go forward. She gave me a reason."

"I'm truly glad you found her."

"What about you and Kristina?"

Colin's heart sank. "There is much unspoken between us."

"You could talk to her after supper."

"Mayhap." Did he truly wish to put his heart on the rack again?

"Do you still care for her?"

Colin frowned. How could his friend even ask that? "Of course. That's the problem. She doesn't want what I do."

"You won't know whether she's changed her mind until you ask her."

He'd dealt with enough pain recently; he didn't need more rejection. "I have no need to be unmanned again so soon."

"Give her a chance to explain herself." Neacal looked far too hopeful. What did he know that he wasn't sharing?

"Clearly you know her mind better than I do," Colin muttered.

Neacal shrugged. "I asked her a few questions before I allowed her to come along, but I'll not tell you what she said. That's her place."

Anticipation tried to break free, but he tamped it down and buried it beneath surliness. "Let me guess—since her sight has returned, she's changed her mind about marrying me."

Studying him, Neacal quirked a brow. "You say that as if 'tis an awful thing."

"Nay. I'm glad she has her sight back, but her blindness was never a problem for me. The problem is the way she changes her mind. What if we become betrothed, and suddenly she loses her sight again? She could easily break the betrothal. If we were to marry, and she loses her sight again, she might very well leave me and return to Bearach to live with Anna… to spare me the burden, as she calls it."

Neacal looked troubled as he glanced away, for he knew it could happen.

"As I said, I don't need the distraction. I'm going out tomorrow all day, hunting for Red Holme. I will not rest until he's dead."

"I'm going with you."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," Colin called.

One of the manservants opened the door and stuck his head in. "Her ladyship sent me. 'Tis time for supper, m'laird."

"We'll be right out."

The servant bowed and closed the door.

"I hope you will at least talk to Kristina," Neacal said.

Colin gave a brief nod. He was certain he would have to talk to her at some point, but he was not ready as of yet. He felt torn, and the intensity of his emotions angered him. He wanted to feel naught but numbness. He did not need this now. He needed to focus on bringing his father's murderer to justice.

As they left the library, Colin's stomach knotted. He was not looking forward to facing Kristina again so soon, and in a crowded social gathering where he would have to pretend all was well… unless she decided to take the meal in her guest chamber. Upon entering the great hall, he saw this was not the case. She was already seated at the high table beside Anna, three seats down from the laird's chair. He was both disappointed and relieved.

Her eyes met his as he approached, then she glanced away. Saints, he could not grow used to the fact that she could see him. Excitement quickened his heart rate.

After one of the elders said grace, the meal was served, but despite his stomach growling, he had little appetite. Nor could he stop himself from glancing down the table or over Anna's head to see if he could catch a glimpse of Kristina.

He, Neacal, Bryce and Cyrus discussed strategies for capturing the elusive Holme. When he found his attention straying, wondering what Kristina would say to him, he wanted to kick himself. He looked forward to talking to her, but at the same time he dreaded it.

 

***

 

Red Holme and Scroggie pushed their way into the crowded great hall of Rhodie Castle, among the arriving MacDonald and MacKenzie clansmen. He doubted any of them would recognize him. He'd made an early retreat from the battle they'd fought in at Bearach. Besides that, before he'd taken on the chimney sweep disguise, he'd shaved his red hair and bushy beard. Soot now covered most of his face, and a cowl covered his head.

He'd tried to keep out of sight when Colin and his closest guards had arrived back, but some of the male servants had been in a tizzy about the beautiful ladies arriving. He'd tried to see if Lady Kristina was among them, but the bailey had been so crowded he couldn't see who they were. But now he intended to find out.

The great hall was packed with several long tables to accommodate the many visitors and clansmen.

When the lady of the castle entered the great hall, all the men and servants stood. The next lady to enter was Anna, then Kristina.

Holme's breath halted as he watched her follow her sister toward the high table, unable to believe his good fortune. His heart raced with excitement and lust. He was glad she wasn't dead. Now, he would have another chance with her.

But something was different about her. No one was leading her. How was this possible? Could she see?

"Well, I'll be hanged," Scroggie whispered. "If 'tis nay the blind wench."

"Shh."

A dark-haired lady followed. Once they were all seated, everyone at the low tables sat on the benches and resumed their conversations. But Holme could not take his gaze off Kristina.

Damnation, but she could see! No one was helping her do anything. She picked up a goblet of wine and drank from it. No feeling around for it. Her actions were so different from the day he'd sat across from her while eating in that tavern.

When Colin Cameron and his friend entered, all the servants leapt to their feet again. Holme didn't. He merely glared through the crowd as the bastard claimed the laird's chair. All the servants resumed their seats. Why was Kristina not sitting beside Colin? Two people sat between them. Were they having a lovers' spat?

Because many days had passed since Holme had eaten a good meal, he stuffed himself with bread and venison during the meal and guzzled ale, all the while keeping an eye on Kristina.

She was even lovelier than he remembered. And he could not get over the fact she could see.

Kristina's presence here changed Holme's plans. He had to find a way to slip her out. But how? She would scream and create a great uproar.

When Holme had eaten and drank all he could hold, he murmured to Scroggie, "Let's go outside." Once they were in the near empty bailey, Holme whispered, "Our plans have changed."

"Are we nay going to burn the castle down now?" Scroggie asked.

"Of course we are. But first, I'm taking the lass out of here."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Holme couldn't help that his interest was still piqued by that witch. He wanted deep and profound revenge against the Camerons, but he also wanted Kristina under him. How could he get both?