He stood up, looked around the room. He was lost, and her heart was breaking. He took a step toward the door but came back and sat down again.
“What are your memories of this before your mother died?” he asked.
“I was so young.” She thought back. “She always wore gloves when she was in public. And I remember she wore this pouch around her neck or at her belt. She never parted with it. I had no idea what it was until the days before she died. She held me at her side and kept talking to me. But none of it made sense. I didn’t believe. Not until she was gone. It is only with death that the power shifts to another. Not before.”
Innes couldn’t tell him that the first thoughts she read had been of her father’s disappointment in not having sons, and of his plans to remarry. Hector Munro was a good man; he was an excellent father. And to this very day, he’d kept his promise to protect Innes and the stone.
“No one knew what your mother could do?” Conall asked.
“No one, except her husband.”
“And who knows about you?”
“As I said before, only my father, Ailein, and on our outing this week, I told Wynda.”
“Why Wynda?”
There was no denying him. Innes told him everything that transpired that day and how she used her gift to scare away those young men.
“So now there are others who know it, too. Young reivers wandering through the countryside looking for helpless women to rob.”
“They didn’t know who I was.” She had to put his mind at ease. Her intention was for Conall to learn about the stone, not to rattle him about her safety. “They were not bad people. Only young lads who’d lost their way. Ask Wynda about it.”
It took a few moments before he focused on the items around the chessboard again. “Do you need to touch the stone while you’re reading someone’s mind? As we did now?”
She shook her head. “After my mother’s death, the stone attached its power to me. It became a part of me. I carry it with me because I was told that’s what I should do. It’s for the purpose of safekeeping. But I don’t need to touch it.”
He looked at her hand. “The market square. The toddler. You knew his name.”
“Kade. I knew his name from his memory of his mother calling for him. I knew where to take him for the same reason.”
“And at the warehouse when I took your hand.”
She blushed. “I knew you wanted to kiss me.”
“And at the loch.”
Her gaze fell to her lap. “I . . . I knew you wanted to make love to me.”
Conall lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. There was tenderness, a passion banking in the depths of his blue eyes. Innes realized that he still didn’t understand the extent of her gift. She had to tell him the rest of it.
“There is something more that I need to show you.”
She picked up her drawings and opened them for him to see. The two drawings she wanted were at the top. The battlefield with the dead, and with his severed hand. The second depicted a dungeon. Her fingers shook as she extended those to him.
“Twice we touched when I had no time to prepare, no time for a glove,” she said. “Both times you didn’t know me, and you were fighting the memories of your past.”
He stared at the drawings.
“The first one I drew after the day of the wedding, when you caught me falling down the stairwell. The second time was when you were returning to Castle Girnigoe and Thunder knocked me down. You pulled me to my feet.”
He continued to stare at them.
“I wasn’t prying into your past. I’m no thief, stealing one’s secrets. The images that came to me were the ones that were in the forefront of your mind when my hand touched you.”
She spoke softly and quickly, trying to hide her raw emotions. She knew he resented any hint of pity.
“When I touch a hand, I am swept into a person’s mind. I have no choice in what I see. Sometimes, it is the smell of death. And I feel that, I smell that, I taste that. Sometimes, there is violence. I feel the pain. Many are consumed by their nightmares. And I feel those nightmares, live those nightmares.
“The past that lives in our thoughts is heightened, sharpened, exaggerated. And it becomes mine. I share it, feel it, try to endure it along with them. When I am swept into the pasts of so many of us, I know that Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
She stared at her hands. He hadn’t moved at all.
His silence was killing her. Her throat burned with mourning the grief of what she knew was to come. Her vision swam with unshed tears. “It’s not by choice that I do this. But here I am. No secrets. The real Innes Munro.”
“Enough,” he said, rising to his feet. He strode to the door and opened it. He paused and then looked over his shoulder at her.
“Thank you for your honesty and your trust,” he said, his voice thick. “Your secret is safe with me for as long as I live. Thunder, come.”
The wolf licked her hand and ran after his master.
As the door closed behind them, a knot in her chest threatened to choke the breath out of her, and the tears began to fall.
Innes knew this would be the way. This was the end for them.
Chapter 18
It all made sense to him now.
The first time, she’d gasped in pain. The second time, she’d nearly passed out in his arms. This was exactly what life with him would be for Innes. A life of misery and torture every time she touched him.
He couldn’t do that to her.
Conall stood on the rocks, looking out at the sea. The waves crashed at his feet. The darkness was spreading across the sky, choking the life out of the lingering dusk.
Alone . . . again. How his own misery was compounded now. He’d caught a glimpse of a possible life—a real life with her—and now he must walk away from it.
Sitting in her room, he’d needed a moment for what she was saying to sink into his thick head. But when it got through to him what she shared, he’d felt a moment of intense relief. She wanted him, too. She trusted him as the one man to whom she could unburden her soul.
She understood. It explained the connection when he touched her, the invisible bond that joined them.
The moment of relief didn’t last. Reality quickly raised its ugly head. Living with him meant she’d feel his pain. Always. Every day. She’d feel the scorching heat of his shame as he did. She’d suffer the pain of the lash, as he suffered.
How could he care for her, love her, and still sentence her to such a living hell?
He closed his eyes and raised his face to the wind as his throat burned with emotion. He wanted to run, to disappear so he wouldn’t have to look on her face and remember how much he still wanted her.
But he couldn’t do that. She deserved better. She deserved his respect. She’d told him the truth, and he owed her at least that in return. It was essential for her to know that it was because of him, and not her gift, that they could never be together. She’d seen just two brief moments. Hundreds more haunted his memories.
First, he had to rein in his emotions so he could speak to her rationally. He had to make her understand that those battles—and the pain of the dungeons afterward—still lived in him. The shame of surviving when so many of his clan fell around him would haunt him always. And what of the torture he endured to keep his captors from knowing who he was and bleeding his clan dry with ransom? That nightmare came true, anyway, when another prisoner exposed him.
He walked along the rocks. Perhaps tomorrow he would speak to her. Explain. Make her understand why they could not be together.
Next week would be better. He could use more time to try to smother his feelings for her. And then he just needed to wait out the time until she returned to Folais Castle. He had no doubt she would go this time.
But what of the days and weeks and years after that?
The howls drew his attention to where Thunder stood by the sea door. The wolf jumped and scratched. For a flee
ting second Conall imagined Innes coming out to find refuge here, just as he had. Perhaps their talk would happen now. But the thought of being alone with her again this soon didn’t sit well. Even with all he’d faced in his life, walking out of her room had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done. That was a memory he would live with always—the tears shimmering in her eyes as she tried bravely to hold them back.
The wolf was not giving up.
Resigned, Conall walked up the incline, but his heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door. He fully expected to see her, but there was no one inside. Thunder disappeared into the darkness.
He ran after the animal. There was nothing to stop Thunder from ending up in the kitchens or in the stables.
He caught sight of the wolf racing down the tunnel, heading toward the stables. When Conall got there, he emerged to find the entire area in a complete chaos. Horses were being pulled out of stalls. His own was missing. Men were moving about, and he could smell smoke. He grabbed a length of rawhide and quickly fashioned a leash for Thunder.
“What’s going on?” he asked one of the stable hands.
“Taking all the horses out into the yard, m’lord.”
“Fire?”
“The laird,” the man responded, struggling to pull a stallion from his stall. “He’s out there giving orders.”
Keeping Thunder at his side, Conall went out to the stable yard. A fire burned in the center, but he looked back at the tower, still expecting to see flames engulfing the upper floors. But there was nothing amiss.
The bedlam in the yard was worse than inside. He saw his brother holding Conall’s stallion by the fire and ordering people about.
“Bryce!” he called out.
His brother paid no attention and walked away, still issuing directions. Men led horses into the fields, where Conall saw another fire burned.
“Bryce,” he called again, lengthening his steps until he caught up to him. “What the devil is going on?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with. I’ll talk to you in a while.”
“What are you doing with my stallion?” he demanded.
“The weather looks to be dry for a time, so I decided it’s a fine night for gelding,” Bryce replied. “We’ll start with the yearlings and do the entire herd tonight.”
“You don’t think you’re gelding my stallion without asking me. And your horse, too? Are you planning to geld our finest stud horses?” He didn’t wait for an answer as the realization came to him. He looked around him. “Every older mount that can travel any distance seems to be here.”
“We’ve talked about this before. It’s time it was done.”
Their conversation last month had to do with improving the quality of their herd over the years.
“I see. And here it is, the middle of the night,” Conall barked. A stable hand went by, leading two horses. “And these mares, Bryce. How do you plan to geld them, I’d like to know?”
Not waiting for an answer, Conall stalked away.
“And no one,” he shouted over his shoulder, “better lay a hand on my stallion.”
Bryce caught up to him in the stable. “Look, Conall. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to keep you here at Girnigoe. And if this means gelding every stallion or having the men drive every one of our horses halfway to Inverness or locking you up in your lair, I’ll do it.”
It was foolish to ask how Bryce knew what transpired with Innes. These were flap-tongued Sinclairs, after all. And where, he asked himself, did they ever get their reputation for taciturnity?
“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” Conall demanded.
“It’s become your nature to disappear,” Bryce said. “But I am warning you, brother. If you leave this castle, I am coming after you. I’ll bring you back, and I’ll use force if I need to.”
Conall scowled. “And what will you do if Innes decides to leave? Will you use force to keep her here, too?”
“She is Ailein’s responsibility. And knowing my wife, I’d say she’s prepared to lock her sister up if need be.”
Moments after Conall and Thunder left, Ailein had burst into Innes’s room.
“This was just your first conversation about the stone,” Ailein said gently, sitting beside Innes on the bed, caressing her back. “You’ve given him a great deal to untangle. What did you expect?”
Innes turned her face away. She couldn’t stop the sobs. She loved him but he’d walked away. She knew he wouldn’t be able to accept the curse that was part of her life.
“I’m leaving,” Innes murmured. “Tomorrow.”
She hurt more than she could have ever imagined. A tight fist wrapped around her heart, squeezing the very life out of her body. For as long as she lived, she wouldn’t forget that wounded look on his face as he walked out.
“Nay. You’re not. You’re staying here with me.”
Innes shook her head and lifted her face off the pillow. “Can’t you understand? My heart is broken.”
“Look at you. I’ve never in my life seen you like this.” Ailein caressed Innes’s hair. “I will not allow you to go away. You will stay here and see this through.”
Another sob escaped Innes’s lips. “You can’t stop me. Let me be.”
“Don’t make me lift this mattress and roll you onto the floor.”
“You’re being cruel.”
“Aye, cruel as the winter wind.”
“Don’t throw my own words back to me. You might come up with your own.”
“Yours will do.” Ailein frowned. “Tell me this, if you go back, will your life be your own?”
Innes sat up in the bed, clutching a pillow in front of her. “He rejected me. He doesn’t want me. What I have . . . these things . . .” She held out her hands as if they were diseased. “They are an intrusion into his past. Don’t you see? I understand why he doesn’t want me.”
“Did you tell him anything about the pain you feel?”
Innes stared at her sister through a cloud of tears.
“Did you tell him that you see not only a picture of the past, but that you also feel the pain of whatever horror is fresh in that person’s mind?”
“I don’t remember.” She looked away. She had.
Ailein shoved a dry kerchief into her hands. “Think, Innes. Try to remember what you told him.”
“I might have. I was getting so desperate. I needed to make him understand that what I did was not by choice. That I had no control over it. I might have admitted more than I should have.” Innes wiped her face.
“Did you show him your sketches?”
“Only what pertained to him,” she said quietly. “Two of them.”
“I want you to listen to me and think clearly for a moment. I’ve learned a great deal about Conall Sinclair lately. And you know him far better than I do.”
Innes remained silent. Fresh tears started gathering on her lids.
“But I know this,” Ailein continued. “The man is smitten with you. He spoke to Bryce about ways of wooing you. My husband said his brother sounded like a love-struck swain.”
Innes wanted to hope, but she couldn’t. Could her sister be right? Was there any sliver of possibility that they could have a future? “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that he doesn’t see you as an intrusion. Just the opposite.” Ailein paused. “You’ve had a glimpse of his past, of the demons that haunt him, and you’ve felt the pain as well. And now he knows that, too. Think, Innes. Perhaps he walked out of this room because he’s worried about you.”
Chapter 19
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times. I’m not going down there.” Innes stood by the door, waiting for her sister to give up. “I refuse to go anywhere that I’ll be studied by your Sinclairs like some wounded gull.”
Ailein pushed her way inside the room and closed the door behind her. “Actually, they probably think of you as a wounded blackbird, but no matter. You’ve locked yourself away here for da
ys, and that’s long enough.”
That was to give Conall enough time to think.
And she wasn’t totally locked away here. She still walked. She just went out earlier and later than usual, leaving before the household stirred at dawn and late at the night when fewer folk lingered in the courtyards.
Innes knew that Conall hadn’t left Castle Girnigoe. She saw his candle burning in the West Tower late into the night. Like some thwarted thief of hearts, she stood in her darkened window, pining for him.
“When will he have an opportunity of speaking with you if you keep yourself confined like this?”
Innes returned to the worktable and her sketchbook. She closed it before her sister had a chance of seeing her latest drawings. Ailein would be shocked by the images she’d been sketching.
“He can find me if he wants.”
And he hadn’t. She should have followed her first instinct and gone directly back to Folais Castle.
“Have you given much thought to what I suggested last night?”
Ailein had mentioned that Innes should “accidentally” run into him in the castle, just to remind him that she was still here.
“It’s out of the question. I am not chasing after him. I’ll not force him to speak to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s over, Ailein. I am . . . I’ve heard what he has to say.”
Innes knew the truth was that seeing him would tip her over the edge. She wouldn’t allow her emotions to pour out in front of him. She’d decided before not to lie to him; she wouldn’t try to influence him with tears now.
The decision to see her or not must be his.
“Well, you’re coming with me today.” Ailein picked up Innes’s gloves and held them out to her.
“Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
“Don’t worry. We’re not leaving the East Tower, so there is absolutely no chance of us running to your precious Beast.” Ailein tossed Innes a glove. “It’s time you got past this misery you’re wallowing in and paid some attention to me, if even for a short time.”
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