by Baker, Katy
Lia smiled weakly, Andrew's charm having no effect on her.
Caillin Drummond is right to hate me: he sees me for what I really am. A murderer.
Mumbling an excuse about needing the privy, she extricated herself from Andrew’s grip, and hurried from the hall.
THE MOON WAS UP, CASTING its eerie light over the castle as Ross strode across the courtyard.
"My lord!"
The shout stopped him in his tracks. One of Cam's warriors came puffing up to him. The man was out of breath as if he'd been running. "I've just come from the gate, my lord," he said. "A messenger's come in from one of the outlying villages. Says he has urgent news."
Ross nodded. "I’ll talk to him immediately." He began to stride towards the guardhouse and then stopped himself. What was he doing? How easy it was to fall back into old habits.
"Wait," he said to the guard. "Why have ye brought this news to me?"
The man blinked as if this was a stupid question. "Ye are Lord Ross, the laird's son. I thought that seeing as ye are back now, ye would—"
"Ye thought wrong," Ross snapped. "Lord Finlay is in command in the laird's absence. Take yer message to him."
The guard looked startled but then ducked his head. "As ye say, Lord Ross." He jogged off in the direction of the Great Hall.
Ross watched him go. Then, with a growl, he spun on his heel and strode down to the gate. Ross exited the gates and then halted on the path, not entirely sure where he was going. Ahead of him lay the village and Ross saw lights twinkling in the tavern where there was no doubt plenty of drinking and raucous laughter going on. Maybe he should go down there and get blinding drunk. But Ross had no desire for company.
The moon illuminated the Devils’ Bridge with silver light. The pull of the place was insistent, a command he could not resist.
Gritting his teeth, Ross set off.
AFTER THE STUFFINESS in the hall, the cool night air of the bailey washed over Lia’s skin like a balm. She paused on the steps, searching for Ross.
Picking up the hem of her dress—why had she given up her tunic and leggings?—she hurried down the steps and across the yard to the stables, thinking he might be visiting Traveler. But the stable hands hadn’t seen him and Traveler drowsed in his stall, not even raising his head at her approach.
Lia made her way to the gates where two guards were playing dice. They scrambled to their feet when they saw her.
“Good evening to ye, my lady,” one said. “Is there somewhat we may help ye with?”
“Has Ross come this way tonight?” she asked.
The guard glanced at his fellow. “Aye. He left not fifteen minutes ago.”
“Great. Thanks.”
She made to walk through the gates but the guard held out a hand to stop her.
“We canna let ye through. Nobody is to go in or out of the castle until sunrise. Lord Finlay’s orders.”
“But you just let Ross through!”
The guard looked at her as if she’d said something stupid. “Aye. But that was Lord Ross.”
Lia scowled. “Look, I have an important message for Lord Ross. If you don’t let me through, he’ll be mighty annoyed.”
The guard raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What message? If ye leave it with me I’ll see that he gets it.”
“I can’t,” Lia replied quickly. “I need to give it him myself. It’s private.”
The guard just stared at her. His colleague rolled his eyes.
“Let her through, man! Do ye really want to explain to Lord Ross why he didnae receive his ‘private message’?”
Understanding dawned in the first guard’s eyes and he grinned. “Oh! I see. Well, in that case, my apologies, my lady.”
Lia gritted her teeth. Let them think she and Ross were having some sort of secret assignation, as long as they let her through.
“Thank you. Which way did he go?”
One of the guards raised his arm and pointed to a spur of rock that stuck out into the sea. Its top was smooth, its sides sheer.
“He was heading towards the Devils’ Bridge. Careful on the path, my lady. The drop is a long one.”
She nodded then stepped through the gates and turned left onto the path that hugged the cliffs. The path was indeed narrow, and she was acutely aware of the boom of surf hitting the base of the cliff below her but the moon had risen and so the path was well lit by silver light. She picked her way carefully along the trail, watching each step until the path finally widened as it met the promontory of the Devil's Bridge.
She finally dared to look up and spotted Ross standing right at the spur’s edge, his form nothing but a black silhouette against the silver of the sea.
“Ross!” she called but her voice was swallowed by the crashing waves.
Steeling her courage, she walked out onto the promontory. His back was to her and as she drew closer, she heard him muttering to himself although the words appeared to be in Gaelic so she couldn’t understand them.
“Ross?”
He didn’t hear her. She reached out and touched his arm. “Ross. I—”
He whirled. The moonlight made his eyes gleam silver and there was no recognition in his face at all. His hand lashed out and caught her in the chest hard enough to send her staggering backwards. She had a millisecond to register the yawning gap at her back, for a scream of terror to rip from her throat, before the ground beneath her feet disappeared.
Then she was falling, falling, her stomach rising into her throat—
—and strong fingers closed around her forearms, yanking her to a halt so suddenly that a burst of pain flared through her shoulders. Then she was pulled upwards and her feet set on firm ground once more. Strong arms went around her, crushing her against a muscled chest so hard she could barely breathe.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ross gasped in her ear.
Lia sagged against him, desperately trying to calm her thumping heart. Holy shit, what had just happened? If Ross hadn’t caught her—
He released her, cupping her face in his hands and looking down at her intently.
“Are ye all right, lass?” All the color had drained from his face. He was trembling. “God in Heaven, Lia! Please tell me ye are all right!”
“I...I’m fine,” Lia mumbled. It had all happened so fast she’d barely had time to register it. “I’m fine.”
“Thank the Lord,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, lass. I didnae know it was ye. I didnae mean to...I’m sorry.”
His eyes were haunted, full of self-loathing and despair. Lia remembered the blank expression on his face as he’d struck her, as if he didn’t see her at all but was instead looking at something inside, something terrible.
“What is this place, Ross?” she asked. “Why have you come out here?”
A spasm of pain crossed his face, and he spun away from her, striding to the edge of the cliff and staring out into the darkness.
“I thought it was happening again. When I saw ye fall... Dear God, Lia, what I almost did!”
“But you didn’t,” she replied. “I’m okay.” She longed to touch him but remained where she was. “Ross, what happened here? What is it that haunts you so?”
He turned to face her and the expression on his face was ravaged, full of self-hatred.
“Do not make me tell ye!” he whispered. “Ye will hate me if ye knew the truth!”
She took a step towards him, gazed up into his eyes. “You said you are a murderer. I don’t believe that. That’s not who you are. There is nothing you can say that would make me hate you.”
He watched her, the look in his eyes unreadable, and then something inside him seemed to crumble. He let out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging.
“I dinna deserve such faith. I am a killer, Lia, whatever ye may wish to think. This is where it happened. This is the place where I killed my twin brother.”
Lia said nothing, forced her face to betray no reaction, even though her heart skipped a beat. She bit down on the que
stions crowding her tongue and waited for him to continue.
“It was five years ago. Five years but it seems like a different life. I was young, arrogant and foolish. It started with a girl. Doesnae it always? Maisie MacTavish, the tanner’s daughter. I had arranged to meet her here, away from the prying eyes of her father who would thrash me if he found me with his daughter. When I arrived I saw that Maisie was here ahead of me. As was Ramsay. They had their heads together, talking, and didnae see me approach. Then, as I watched, Maisie kissed him. Ramsay didnae resist. I flew into a rage. How dare they betray me like this? How dare Maisie prefer Ramsay, the serious, boring one, over me? I cared naught for Maisie. She would have been only another notch on my bed post. It was pride, not my heart that was injured at the sight.
I leapt at my brother, cursing him, calling him every foul name I could think of. Maisie did the sensible thing and fled, leaving me alone on the Devil’s Bridge with my twin. We fought. Or rather, I fought. Ramsay made no effort to defend himself. I was the better fighter but Ramsay had reflexes like lightning. He dodged my blows, all the while trying to explain there was naught between Maisie and him, that she had surprised him with the kiss and that he only came to warn us that her father was on the war path. I didnae listen. I didnae see my brother anymore, the person who had watched my back since the moment we’d been born. I saw only an enemy, somebody who had dared to cross me.”
He blinked, as though trying to clear terrible images. His eyes had a slightly glazed look and a vein in his temple throbbed. He remained silent for a long time, the only sound the harsh rasp of his breathing as his chest heaved.
Lia took a small step closer. "What happened?" she whispered.
His eyes snapped to hers. "I wanted him dead. A red rage had control of me. I struck him over and over again, driving him towards the cliff edge." The words were hoarse, as though ripped from his throat. "He fell." He swiped a hand over his face. "I came to my senses and threw myself after him. I caught him, like I caught ye. He was dangling over the edge, naught but thrashing sea below. He was so heavy. So heavy. I couldnae pull him up. I couldnae! I was frantic, but he was calm. He said he wouldnae see us both die that day. He told me to let go."
His legs gave way and he crashed to his knees, one hand going up to cover his face. Lia reached out, but resisted the urge to touch him. With head bowed he pulled in a great, ragged breath.
"And I did. God forgive me, I did! I let him go. And I watched as my brother plummeted into the sea."
He fell silent, his shoulders heaving with emotion, his face hidden from Lia's view. Her heart twisted for him. A moment of madness, a youthful mistake, had cost him everything.
She crouched by his side. "It wasn't your fault, Ross."
He shook his head. "Ye dinna understand. I said I couldnae pull him up, but from that moment to this, I dinna know if that is the truth. Couldnae or wouldnae? In that moment of red rage I wanted him dead. Mayhap I let him go deliberately. I dinna know. But I killed my brother as surely as if I had scraped a knife across his throat. It should have been me. I should have been the one who drowned. If I could trade places with him, I would."
"So that's why you want this bargain with the Fae?" Lia said, as sudden understanding dawned. "You want to trade your life for your brother's?"
He looked at her, revealing a shattered gaze. "They hold the power over time do they not? They could take me back to that night, allow me to be the one that fell, allow my brother to be the one that lived."
Lia’s heart twisted. How could anyone live with the guilt he carried? How did he bear it? She couldn't stand to see him like this, broken and hollow.
She moved around to crouch in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Look at me. Look at me, damn you! You dare to tell me what kind of man you are?" Anger bubbled up inside and she didn't try to stop it. Let him hear how much his words rankled her. "You dare to presume I can't tell that for myself? After all we've been through? I understand what kind of man you are, Ross MacAuley, because I've seen it. I've lived it."
Her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. "I'll tell you what kind of man you are. You're the kind of man who rides to the aid of a stranger, despite the danger to himself. You're the kind of man who pledges his aid to that stranger, despite what it will cost him. You're the kind of man who sees the good in a bunch of outlaws, the kind of man who wins their loyalty despite their natural suspicion of the nobility. God damn it, Ross! You're the kind of man who would sell his soul to the Fae to make good on his one mistake! Doesn't that tell you everything you need to know?"
She hadn't gotten through to him. She saw it in the stubborn set of his jaw, the shadow that still clouded his eyes.
"Don't you get it?" she cried in exasperation. "Why can't you see the man I see? The man I fell in love with?"
His head snapped up. "What...what did ye just say?"
She hadn't meant to say those words, to expose her heart in this way, but now that the words were out of her mouth she didn't regret them. They felt right. She'd known for a long time how she felt about him, even if she hadn't been able to admit it, even to herself.
She looked him square in the eyes. "Do you have a problem with your hearing, Ross MacAuley? I said I love you."
He sat frozen. All Lia could hear was the thumping of her own heart and the roar of blood in her ears. Then he reached up slowly and gathered her hands between his own, all the while not taking his eyes off her.
"I’ve dreamed of hearing ye say those words, lass," he whispered. "But I knew it was just that—a dream. Will I wake up in a minute?"
She smiled, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes. "You're not dreaming, Ross. We're here. Together. Right here, right now."
On the edges of her perception she heard the crashing of the waves and the whine of the wind but they were distant, insignificant. All of her awareness was focussed on the man in front of her. In the gloom his eyes were full of shadow but even as she watched, that shadow seemed to lift and something else filled them, something clear and bright. His breathing was still ragged, his chest still heaving, but now it seemed to come from a different emotion.
His hand trembled a little as he reached out and cupped her cheek with one hand. His eyes found hers. "I went in search of the Fae thinking that was the way my life must be. My life hasnae been my own since the moment I found ye in that village. It belongs to ye now. If ye ask it, I will give it all up—my quest, my title, my life. I dinna have the words to tell ye how much I love ye."
Joy brought tears to Lia’s eyes. "Ross, I—"
She didn't finish the sentence. Ross leaned forward and kissed her.
She flungs her arms around his neck and kissed him back, losing herself in the explosion of joy and longing that suddenly filled her heart to bursting. He pulled her closer, his arms going around her waist and yanking her against him.
Now she could hear nothing: not the waves, not the wind. She could feel nothing, not the hard ground beneath her knees, not the cold that seeped through the fabric of her dress. Only him. Only the strength of his arms holding her close, only the hardness of his chest crushing her against him, only the silky soft press of his lips on hers.
A hot flush of arousal went through her and she clutched at him, wanting no distance between them, nothing at all. He responded, his arms tightening, his kiss deepening, becoming almost desperate. A low moan escaped him and he broke the kiss suddenly, the breath heaving in and out of his chest.
"We must stop, love," he gasped hoarsely. "Or I will have to take ye right here and now."
Would that be such a bad thing? God knows, she'd never wanted any man the way she wanted Ross. The whole world could go to hell as far as she was concerned, as long as he was with her.
But no. The rational part of her recognized that his words made sense. She pulled in a few breaths and nodded. Ross had not let her go. His arms still circled her waist, holding her hard against h
im. Now he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.
He opened his mouth to speak but the clanging sound of a bell suddenly cut through the night. Ross turned his head to look in the direction of Dun Ringill. The bell fell silent for a second before ringing out twice more.
"Three peals," Ross said. "Calling the clan to council." He climbed to his feet and pulled Lia up after him.
"At this time of night?" she asked.
"The messenger," he breathed. "A messenger arrived as I left. Come on. We must hurry."
He caught her hand, his fingers twining about hers, and together they hurried off the promontory and onto the trail that led back to Dun Ringill. The trail that had been so treacherous on her way here now held no fear for Lia. Ross walked by her side and she knew he would never let her fall. She knew he would always catch her.
She glanced in his direction and found his gaze fixed on the castle ahead. What news did the messenger bring? A tingle of trepidation walked down her spine. She gripped Ross's hand harder.
As she and Ross approached the gates, one of the guards came running to meet them. It was the one Lia had spoken to on her way out. His expression was grim.
"We were told to watch out for ye, my lord," he said to Ross. "Lord Finlay has called a council in the laird's solar."
Ross nodded. "My thanks."
Lia and Ross hurried across the bailey and up the steps into the keep. Lia trotted to keep up with Ross's long strides as they made their way down a long corridor and then up a set of winding steps to the laird's solar. The door stood open, a MacAuley warrior keeping guard outside. Lia heard the muttering of muted conversation from within.
The warrior nodded to Ross and indicated for them to enter and then swung the door shut behind them. Thea and Finlay were already in the room, Thea seated by the window, Finlay pacing up and down in front of the fireplace like a caged panther. Several grim-faced men Lia didn't recognize sat on chairs and from their martial air she guessed they were members of the castle guard or Finn's trackers.