Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series Book 1)

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Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series Book 1) Page 4

by Baldwin, Lily


  “Without the fae the darkness will only continue to grow.” Alex leaned forward in his seat. “But I believe our goodness will usher the way for their return if we come together and take a stand.”

  When Alex finished, he sat back in his chair and watched William stroke his long, graying beard. He appeared to chew over Alex’s speech for several moments. Then at last he spoke. “I long for the return of the fae. I’m weary of battling the earth to feed my people. Still, we survive.”

  Alex’s heart raced. “But don’t ye wish for more than survival? I want to give life to my clan.”

  “What ye purpose is the end of the MacKenzies, and if I were as foolhardy, the end of Clan Ross as well.” William grasped the sides of his chair and started to stand. Alex noticed his knuckles whitened from the strain.

  “Come with me,” William said.

  Alex followed closely behind. To a less casual observer, William may have appeared to walk with ease. But Alex noticed his tight fists and clenched jaw. He was clearly in pain, but, more than that, he did not wish Alex to know.

  William drew back a tapestry, revealing a long, slim window. “Every day, I stand here and look out at my pastures and every day they are cast in shadow. We’ve been able to adapt to the new growing season. My clan is fed, so too are my horse’s and sheep. I’ve even gold in my coffer. I’ll not send my warriors to their death, not for ye, Alexander MacKenzie, not for anyone.”

  William withdrew from the window and returned to his seat near the hearth. “I ken your clan suffers. I would bring relief to your people if I could, but there is evil in our midst. Evil mortal men dare not face.”

  Alex sat on the edge of his seat. “Tell me what ye know. What evil holds us all in its grip?”

  William’s breathing quickened. “I know nothing.” He turned away and stared into the cold hearth. His fingers tapped his lips as he muttered something Alex could not discern. He glanced sidelong at Jamie who raised his shoulders in reply. Neither MacKenzie knew what to make of their strange neighbor.

  Alex looked closer at the hearth in an attempt to discover what held William’s rapt attention. “Shall I light a fire for ye?” He waited for William to answer, but the older man carried on with his mutterings and made no reply.

  Their visit to Dun Brae Castle was as Alex had feared—a great waste of time.

  “Thank ye for hearing me out.” Alex rose. Not wishing to appear rude, he scanned the great hall. He would pay the good laird a compliment before taking his leave. “I remember this fine hall from my youth. I remember the feast that followed the games. ‘Tis as beautiful now as it was then.”

  Jamie joined in. “That was a fine day, indeed. Do ye remember the look on the stable master’s face when ye pet the horse no one else could even approach without it bucking up a storm?”

  Alex smiled. He did remember. “Aye. The stable master threatened to take a switch to my hide. He accused me of making him look the fool.”

  “Wait,” William hissed.

  Alex turned to find the laird’s rapt eyes fixed on him.

  William rose from his seat, his stare unwavering. “Are ye the very same lad? The one who tamed the stallion all those years ago?”

  Alex nodded. “I’ve always had a way with animals.” An ache formed in his chest. “’Tis a gift I inherited from my mother.”

  “Imagine that,” William whispered before turning away to stare once more into the barren hearth.

  Alex and Jamie exchanged bewildered looks.

  William whirled back around. “This changes everything. Alexander MacKenzie, ye have yourself an alliance.”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “Ye have a fondness for animals?”

  William smiled. “More than ye could possibly know.”

  William Ross was clearly touched. But what did that matter? If he was willing to make an alliance with the MacKenzies, Alex was not going to hem and haw over the details. He smiled and placed his hand on William’s shoulder. “On behalf of my clan, I thank ye.”

  A queer light gleamed in William’s eyes. “Refrain from such niceties until ye hear my two conditions.”

  Alex nodded and stepped back.

  “The first condition is this. I’ll hear no more on the subject of challenging the wolves; at least not until we’ve strengthened both our clans. More than revenge or the fae, your people need nourishment.”

  Alex nodded. William was right. First, he would heal his clan, then he would seek justice. “And the second condition?” Alex asked.

  William’s lips curved into a wide grin. “Ye must marry my daughter.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Cora sat beside the cold hearth in her bedroom, her back straight while she embroidered a new tapestry. The painstaking labor occupied her mind and body, bringing reprieve from the bombardment of her overly keen senses. She sat back and surveyed her progress. Her favorite subject to depict were scenes from nature. She gazed at the many tapestries, which lined her walls, all made by her hand alone. She loved each one, although her current piece was already her favorite. Though not as intricate as the others, there was a beauty in its simplicity that gripped her soul. A mermaid sat atop a rock, hugging her fin close, her face raised to the sun.

  Cora’s ears pricked. She angled her head toward the noise. It was the sound of her father’s heart pounding in his chest as he ascended the winding stairwell leading to her room. She listened to the distant padding of his leather boots on the stone floor, which would have been normal for the time of the day. They broke their fast together every morning in her room. But unlike usual, her father was not alone.

  Placing her needle and thread on the wooden pedestal table beside her chair, she rose and stretched her arms above her head. Then she smoothed her hands down the front of her white tunic and adjusted the fine woven belt that hung about her hips. Striding across the room, she peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her head was covered in a tightly-fitted wimple, but her long, blond braid could not be contained as it dragged the floor when she walked. She pinched her cheeks, which shone white without any sign of flush despite how warm she felt. Heat poured from her body in waves like sunshine. She inhaled deeply, catching the unfamiliar scent of two men in her father’s company. They were getting closer. Ignoring her racing heart, she dabbed a handkerchief at the beads of sweat, which had gathered above her brow. Then she hastened back to her seat. Closing her eyes, she willed her body to remain calm. After several deep breaths, her heart beat slowed and soon her breathing was in check. She wiped her brow once more, straightened her back, and took up her needle just as her father rapped on her door.

  “Enter,” she called.

  The swish of the door sounded in her ear only to be drowned out by the sound of three beating hearts. One of the strangers’ hearts raced faster than the other’s. She inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. He was afraid. Slowly, she turned in her seat. Her eyes locked with the man whose heart thudded in her ears, though he kept his face strangely angled and looked at her from the side. She started to stand, but his heart raced even faster, causing her to hesitate. Why was he so afraid? It was she who had reason to fear. No one other than her father had been inside her room for years. Holding fast to the shreds of her resolve, she stood to her full height. Still offering her only his profile, his eye swept over her once before he looked away.

  “Cora, my darling, I would like ye to meet Laird Alexander MacKenzie.”

  She smiled in greeting but the man did not look at her.

  “And this is his fellow kinsman, Jamie MacKenzie.”

  She received a much different reception from the friend. Jamie stepped forward and bowed, flashing her a smile that made her knees weak. She blushed and started to curtsy, but Alexander’s heart thundered in his chest, drawing her gaze. Her eyes shot to his clenched fists. Anger had absorbed his fear, this she did not doubt. Her own heart beat to the same reckless rhythm. She looked pleadingly at her father, wishing he would just tell her why he had brought strangers into her mid
st.

  William smiled, ignoring her plea. “Alexander set out today seeking to change the fortune of his clan. But in doing so he has, in fact, changed all our fortunes.”

  “What have ye done?” she whispered.

  “Ye’ll marry him,” her father said without ceremony.

  Jamie smiled at her, drawing her gaze.

  “I’m to marry ye,” she said, raising a quizzical brow.

  Jamie’s eyes widened with surprise, and he stepped back. “Nay, not I.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint ye, lass, but your father meant me,” Alexander said. Then he turned and looked at her straight on.

  Her breath hitched. From the side he’d been so handsome. She had not been prepared for the painful scars that marred his face and neck. A shadow passed his features. Her reaction had injured him.

  “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not expect…I mean…I was not prepared…” She could feel his heartache as his pulse slowed. He was no longer terrified or angry. He was defeated. She turned back to her father. “I’m confused. I thought we had an understanding.”

  Either her father could not or would not look at her. Instead, he looked to Alex. “Cora speaks of a vow I made allowing her to marry for love, but…” He turned to meet her gaze. “Ye agreed to marry a man if I thought him fitting.” He grabbed her shoulders. “Ye must trust me.” Then he pulled her close and whispered, “I know he is the best man for ye.”

  She pulled away and looked into her father’s blue eyes. Trust me, they said. She cleared her throat. “Have ye told Alexander much about me?” She smiled when both Alexander and Jamie exchanged questioning glances. “He should know my accomplishments before he agrees to accept my hand. Should he not, father?”

  “Nay,” William said. “I’ve told Alex little about ye, and I think it best to wait until after your journey to Sonas to be better acquainted.” He cleared his throat and in a lighter voice said, “Such is customary with a new bride and groom.”

  Customary. There was nothing customary about her, and as she looked once more into the blue and green eyes of her betrothed, she knew there was nothing customary about him either.

  “Are ye certain, Father?” Sweat beaded her forehead. They were asking her to leave the safety of her room, not just her room but her home. They were asking her to bind herself to a man she’d never met and to leave her father. She looked at William and swallowed the knot that suddenly filled her throat. Nothing could keep her by her father’s side now. After all, he was leaving her and this world behind. His time was short, and she knew he wished to see her safely wed before his death. But what of Alex’s safety and that of his clan? Should her own security come at the potential sacrifice of so many?

  “I’m going to call for the priest. Cora, perhaps ye’d like to show Alex your tapestries. As ye can see, my daughter is very accomplished. Cora,” William said, glancing back at her from the doorway. “Take some deep breaths. Ye don’t want to upset yourself too much.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Jamie cleared his throat. “I’ll help ye see to the necessary arrangements,” he said to William and bowed to her before stepping through the door, leaving her alone with her betrothed.

  Her betrothed.

  Cora closed her eyes and fought to master her racing heart. If her father was right, this could be her only chance to escape her fate, but she could not lose control now. This strange man beside her would never marry her if he knew the truth.

  She glanced up at him through her lashes. Why him? Other suitors had called, but her father had trusted none. What made Alexander MacKenzie so different?

  She took another deep breath and won the hard fight for calm. Then she realized she was alone with Alexander in her room. Her father must have a great deal of faith in her, or she thought eying Alexander thoughtfully, mayhap his faith lies in ye.

  She cleared her throat, trying to think of what to say. She really had no experience talking to men. What was she thinking? She had little experience making conversation with anyone other than her father.

  “Do ye drink? Och, of course, ye drink.” Her heart started to pound again. “Saints above! I’ve wine over by the hearth. Would ye care for some?”

  He raised a curious brow at her, but the corners of his lips lifted in a smile. “Some wine would be nice,” he said gently.

  He stepped around her to stand on her right side, which she knew instinctively he did so to present his unblemished profile. She accepted his offered hand. His eyes widened slightly. “Ye’re so warm.”

  She blushed and fought the desire to tear her hand away. “I’m often warm. Ye won’t have to worry about having a wife who complains about our Highland winters.” She really needed to stop talking.

  His rich laughter rang out, making her feel more at ease. He poured them each a glass of wine. She managed to sip at her cup, although she longed to drain the contents down her throat.

  “Forgive my nerves,” she said. “I did not know the day would begin with my being betrothed.”

  Without turning to look her straight on, he smiled a sideways smile. “Neither did I.” He drained his cup, which she took as permission to do the same. Filling their cups once more, each drained them again. Then they stood together, side by side, staring into the hearth.

  At length he said, “Should ye not have a fire?”

  She smiled but continued to stare at the bare, clean stones. “I’ve no need of a fire.” She considered how ridiculous that might sound to him. Her eyes scanned her room for a distraction. “Would ye like to view my tapestries?”

  He looked at her curiously, but then he nodded. “Have ye ever seen the merfolk?” he asked as he considered her newest image.

  She smiled. “Once, when I was just a wee lass.” She loved the magical beauty of the fae. To her they were a promise that not all who were different or magic were bad. Some were filled with goodness and brought beauty wherever they went and gave it to whatever they touched.

  He surveyed her walls, pausing in front of a tapestry she had made when she had been in a particularly dark mood. It featured a wolf pack and a tangled forest.

  “Ye do not like this one?” she said as she eyed his scowl.

  “Nay, I do in fact. The artistry is incredible. This one made ye feel more than the others, but it forces me to remember the troubling time in which we live. The workmanship, however, is remarkable.”

  She could not contain her smile. He did not flatter her. He truly admired her work. Had he feigned praise, she would have known. She could smell a lie from across the room. Her arm brushed his, and she heard the beating of his heart quicken. She closed her eyes and savored the sound. This time she knew it was not fear or anger that set his heart to race. It was her. She inhaled his scent, which had deepened, growing fragrant with traces of musk. Closing her eyes, she relished his masculine smell and let it caress her from the inside out. Her whole body responded, lulled into a state of euphoria.

  A sudden clamor caused her eyes to snap open. She looked down. She had dropped her cup. She glanced up at Alex who still had his head carefully angled to the side, but he smiled. Blushing, she bent down to pick it up just as he did the same. Their heads collided, causing them both to simultaneously wince and laugh. He looked straight at her now, which she knew meant he must have forgotten himself. Both eyes, blue and green, crinkled when he laughed, and his unmarred cheek dimpled when he smiled. Her gaze shifted to his maimed side. So much pain. Immediately, she sensed a change in him as her eyes passed over his scars. Once more, he tilted his head away.

  “What happened?” She reached to touch his cheek, but he flinched and took a step back. All lightness faded from his expression, but only for a moment. Then his eyes softened. “Forgive me. My courage failed me just now. I’m not used to being touched.”

  “Neither am I,” she said softly.

  They stared at each other, not speaking, just feeling. She saw herself when she looked at his scars—her real self.

&n
bsp; “There was a fire,” he said, breaking the silence. “It happened when I was a lad.”

  She nodded. She knew all about fire and death. She knew how wickedness could alter a life forever.

  “But that is in the past.” He drew closer, taking her hand. “I’ll not allow ye to be forced into marriage to me. I will leave this minute if that is your wish. But if ye’ll have me, I make a promise to ye now. As your husband, I vow to care for ye and protect ye. That is…if…” His voice trailed off. She knew what he wished to say. She reached up and cupped his marred cheek. This time he did not pull away. “I’ll marry ye, Alexander.”

  Relief radiated from his body. She could smell his joy. She could feel his skin warm from his pleasure. He was a good man. This she did not doubt. She cast her gaze to the ground unable to look into his kind, honest eyes. A man like him deserved more. She turned away, returning to her seat by the hearth. Taking up her needle, she stabbed the fabric and tried to catch her breath.

  She felt his scent curl around her when he drew near. She bent her neck back and met his gaze, one blue eye and one green.

  God above, how she wished she could tell him the truth. It was the right thing to do, but fear of rejection stayed her tongue.

  She reached for his hand and pressed it over her heart. “Not all scars are visible,” she said softly.

  He touched her cheek. “Indeed not,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER 5

  Alex stared transfixed into Cora’s sky blue eyes while the priest spoke words that would bind their lives together. He marveled at how quickly life could change. The day before, he had set out from Sonas clinging to the desperate hope that Clan Ross and MacKenzie might align against a common enemy. And now, not only had an alliance been forged, but somehow the fairest of angels stood before him without fear, pledging to cherish him all the rest of her days. It seemed too good to be true, and yet her warm hand filled his, proving she was not merely the stuff of dreams. She stared boldly up at him, beyond his imperfect facade to the man within, and in her eyes he glimpsed one unmistakable emotion that burned like wildfire deep inside his soul—hope.

 

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