by J. D. Robb
“What did you say to her?”
“I could not, in good conscience, accept her terms, since I believed that she did not have the well-being of my clan in mind. As for her curse, I scoffed at her attempt to frighten me.” His hand tightened on hers as his voice lowered to a whisper. “If only I had listened to her.”
“Are you saying you believe in magic? You actually believe in Darda’s curse?”
“How else to explain? Immediately after my refusal, my beloved father was dead.”
“Could Darda have killed him, just to make you believe her?”
He nodded. “It is quite possible. But soon after, Darda died by her own hand. She left a note to me, sealed in wax and stained by her own blood, saying she was taking her life so that she could never be tortured into rescinding the second half of the curse, which she’d called down upon all within the confines of this castle, and upon me.”
“Your people turn into birds or animals?”
He nodded.
“And they know it is happening?”
“They know. But they cannot change it.”
Beth could barely breathe. Even as she asked the question, she feared she already knew the answer. “What is the curse on you?”
“You have heard of the Beast of the Highlands?”
She swallowed before nodding.
“On the first night of every new moon, I must leave this body and enter the body of a great stag. I am compelled to climb to the highest reaches of Stag’s Head Peak until dawn. If I survive a hunter’s arrow, I will live for another month. But with each new moon, the curse begins anew, until a shrewd hunter’s arrow shall find me, and death shall surely claim me.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “That’s why I was being warned to be indoors before dark. We are drawing near to the new moon.”
“It is, in fact, upon us. Through the years many have spotted the great stag, known as the Beast of the Highlands. Many more have heard the fearsome sound of hooves racing through their villages. All who live here avoid going out after dark, especially on the night of a new moon. And each time, I am prepared to die. But this time, more than ever, I am convinced of it.”
“There must be something we can do.” She pushed away from him and began to pace. “What if I were to tie you up? Or lock you in the stables?”
He reached out a hand to stop her pacing and drew her back down into his arms. “Do you not think I have tried such things? But I am helpless to evade this curse. I am compelled to kick and bite and free myself, even though I know I should not. I am helpless to stop the curse. And tonight, at midnight, as the new moon rises, I believe I will face my final hunter. My executioner.”
“Darda’s son, Ian.”
He nodded. “Or one of his accomplices.”
Beth wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her. Against his temple she whispered, “This can’t be. None of this makes any sense. There has to be a way to stop this madness.”
“There is none. But until midnight, there is a way to distract ourselves from the horror that is to come.” He laid her down and kissed her with a tenderness that said, more than any words, just what he was feeling.
And then, with a desperation born of the knowledge that this could be their last time together, they took each other beyond the fears and doubts and pain to a place of peace and tenderness.
A place where only lovers can go.
CHAPTER NINE
Beth lay in the darkness, feeling Colin’s arms around her, his heartbeat as erratic as her own. During their time together they’d pushed away the fear in the only way they could. Now there was nothing left to do but face the fate decreed by Darda’s curse.
Beth had shared with him every scheme she could imagine to evade this cruel outcome, but he’d assured her that he had already attempted everything imaginable through the years. Darda’s curse was unbreakable.
As the new moon began to rise over their balcony, he brushed a soft kiss on her lips and slid from the pallet.
“Wait. You mustn’t go. I can’t let you.” She caught his hand and clung fiercely.
His voice was an urgent whisper. “Understand, love, the call is so fierce, I would crush you beneath my hooves in my haste to get to Stag’s Head Peak. Now that the time is upon me, nothing can stop this overwhelming need.”
Tossing a cloak over his plaid, he strode from the room without a pause.
As the door closed, lightning streaked across the sky, followed moments later by a crash of thunder so close, it shook the rafters.
Chilled, Beth pulled on the woolen nightgown that had been left on the chaise. Turning to the fireplace, she stirred the ashes and added a log, but even the sudden blaze of flames couldn’t warm her. The thought of what was about to happen to Colin left her chilled to the bone.
Shivering, she ran to the balcony, hoping for one last glimpse of his beloved face.
Lightning streaked, illuminating a great stag, its antlers as wide as a longbow as it raced across the courtyard and fled into the countryside beyond. Lightning flashed across Stag’s Head Peak in the distance.
After a day watching the hunt, Beth knew that the landscape was every bit as wild and rugged as the tales her Gram had told. Looking out over the bleak countryside, she chewed her lower lip, considering her options.
Colin was convinced that nothing could change his fate. But she refused to stand idly by while he went to certain death. There had to be a way to intervene in Darda’s hateful curse.
A search of the room found little to help. Beth’s gaze was arrested by the ancient sword and knife hanging above the mantel. Standing on a settee, she was able to reach the sword, but when she tried to remove it, she realized that it probably weighed more than she. That left her no choice but to help herself to the knife, which she tucked into the pocket of her nightdress.
She had no plan in mind, except to find Colin. With that thought playing through her head, she snatched up a coarse woolen cloak and opened the door to her chambers before racing headlong down the stairs.
Once outside, she pulled the cloak over her and hiked the skirts of the ridiculous nightdress as she started walking, keeping the high peak in the distance clearly in her line of vision.
Maybe she really was crazy, she thought. What other explanation could there possibly be that would have her sneaking away in the middle of the night, crossing the wild, dangerous Highlands barefoot, and hoping to stop a dangerous hunter from killing the fictional Beast of the Highlands?
As if the wind blowing across the countryside wasn’t enough, Beth’s bare feet kept sliding over damp moss and slippery rocks, making her feel as unbalanced as many at Stag’s Head Lodge believed her to be.
The climb to the peak seemed an impossible task. The howling wind was threatening to blow her away. Each lightning bolt, each boom of thunder, had her questioning her sanity. Still, she refused to turn back.
She scrambled from rock to rock, low branch to low branch, and found herself struggling for every breath. She’d never dreamed the climb to the top of these Highland peaks would be so daunting.
At the keening of the wind, the sky turned so dark, she looked up and saw the moon covered by a wall of thick, dark clouds. Perhaps she should be grateful for the wind and the clouds. Without them, she would have been as visible as if she were carrying a lantern.
As she came up over a rise, a sudden flash of lightning gave her a clear view of the scene before her.
A great stag stood on a shelf of rock, head high, standing as still as a statue.
Seeing a slight movement to one side, Beth caught sight of a man wearing a hooded cloak. In the blink of an eye he lifted his hands. Another flash of lightning showed an archer’s bow in one hand, an arrow in the other.
As he took aim, she shouted, “Behind you!”
The night went dark, and she feared her wor
ds had been snatched away by the wicked wind. Straining, she thought she heard the flight of the arrow as it sang through the air. In the same instant the stag leapt down from the rock.
Instead of hitting the stag’s throat, as intended, the arrow landed in the moving animal’s side.
With a cry the great beast staggered and fought, rearing up on its hind legs before dropping to the ground, writhing in pain.
With a muttered oath at his bad timing, the man stepped out of his place of concealment. Following behind him was a woman dressed in an elegant fur-lined cloak.
The two headed toward the animal, prepared to finish the deed. In the man’s hand was a sword. In the woman’s hand, the razor-sharp blade of a knife glinted in the moonlight.
“No!” With a look of absolute horror, Beth raced across the distance that separated them and knelt beside the wounded creature.
With a look of surprise, the man halted for a moment.
Edwina took the lead and started forward. “Move away, woman, before you join the beast in death.”
“You think to kill us both so no one will know the evil thing you did here?” Beth got to her feet and faced the man and woman.
“No, you fool,” Ian shouted. “The Beast will take care of that for us. Before he dies, his antlers will rip you to shreds. If that isn’t enough, those great hooves will crush you.”
“Then you’ll have your wish, won’t you? The only witness to your cruel deed will be eliminated.” Beth fixed them both with a look of fury. “What happened to the hunter you paid to do this evil thing?”
Ian looked stunned. “How did you know?”
“I overheard your evil scheme.”
“Why, you . . .” As Ian rushed toward her, Beth pulled the knife from her waistband.
“Come any closer, Ian, and you’ll be the one to suffer.”
When he hesitated, Edwina tossed back the hood of her cloak and advanced. “Do you think you can kill both of us?”
“I’ll die trying.”
Hearing the sound of pain and fury emanating from the stag’s throat, and seeing the feral gleam of its eyes, Edwina turned away with a sly smile. “This woman is a bigger fool than your friend Hamish.” She shot a glance at Beth. “You asked about him. He refused to carry out the deed, saying the laird didn’t deserve such a fate. Even now he lies in a pool of his own blood.”
Beth looked in horror at Ian. “And you called him a friend?”
Edwina answered for her brother. “What we do is necessary to carry out the will of our mother. As for you, fool woman, you shall suffer an even harsher death, as you’ll certainly be crushed beneath the hooves of the beast as he fights to the death. You both deserve what you will get.”
As thunder crashed across the heavens, Edwina turned away. Her boot caught the edge of a rock and she lost her balance, falling into the rushing waters of a swollen Highland stream.
With a cry, Ian dropped his weapon and made a desperate attempt to save her, until he, too, was swept away.
Their cries filled the air.
Within minutes their voices were stilled.
Shuddering, Beth turned her attention to the great stag. But as she reached for the arrow protruding from its side, powerful hooves flailed at her hand, barely missing her flesh.
She watched as the animal’s breath came in short bursts, indicating the amount of pain even that effort cost.
“You have to let me remove that arrow, or you’ll surely bleed to death.”
The stag turned to her with a look of terror.
“I know you mistrust humans. Especially now that one has caused you such pain. But you have to trust me. I’m here to help you.”
While she kept her voice soft, she ran a hand along the creature’s sleek hide and felt a quiver, and another low rumble deep in its throat. A warning to retreat? Or an admission of its fear?
“In order to help you, I’ll be forced to inflict a little more pain as I withdraw the arrow. But then, if you’ll let me, I’ll bind your wounds and stay with you until you’re able to find your way home.” She touched a hand to the animal’s head and stared into the pain-filled eyes. “Please let me help.”
As she spoke she took hold of the shaft of the arrow and pulled it free in one quick motion.
The stag gave a howl of pain that could be heard echoing and re-echoing across the Highlands, sending chills along the spine of every man, woman, and child who heard it in the villages below.
“I’m sorry, my love. I can’t bear the thought of causing you any more pain than you’ve already experienced.”
Beth tore the hem of her gown into strips, which she wrapped tightly around the animal’s hide until they were drenched with blood. When she was finished, her hands, her body, even the ends of her hair were soaked with the creature’s blood.
“If I could, I’d take away your pain. But all I can do now is hope that you’re strong enough to recover from this horrible wound.” Beth wrapped her arms around the animal’s neck and pressed her mouth to its ear. “Try to sleep, love. To heal. And we’ll hope that in the morning, you’re strong enough to find your way home.”
There was another growl, softer now, as the big stag trembled.
Exhausted from the climb and the emotional toll of her efforts, Beth huddled against the great beast, tucking the edges of her cloak around him, and fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
The storm had blown over, leaving a fine mist falling from a sky tinged with dawn light. Beth awoke with a start. Instead of the great stag she’d been holding when she fell asleep, she looked down into the face of her beloved Colin.
“You’re alive.”
He made a slight movement, struggling to grasp her hand. “Nay, love. I am dying.”
“But you’ve broken the curse. You’ve survived the night. You can’t die, Colin. Please stay with me.” His hands, she realized, were as cold as ice. His flesh was as pale as the snowcaps that dotted the peaks of the Highlands. “I can’t bear to live without you. There has to be something I can do.”
“It is too late to stop the curse. In order to fulfill Darda’s promise, I must die. But there is a way to thwart her.”
“How? Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.”
His gaze was fixed on her. “You have already done it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Love, Bethany. Love is stronger than hate. A pure heart is stronger than any curse. If you love me, truly love me, you must know that I’ll never leave you.”
“But you said you’re dying.”
“I am. I must. But that does not mean I’ll ever leave you, love.”
“You’re not making any sense. You’re dying, and you say you’ll never leave me?”
“I give you my word, my beloved Bethany. I will always be with you. And one day, I promise you, your grief will turn to joy.”
She watched the uneven rise and fall of his chest, and knew that he was struggling to remain with her. But his life was slowly fading.
Though it pained her, she knew she needed to be completely truthful with him before death claimed him. “I need to tell you something. I hope you won’t hate me when you hear this. I came here to persuade you, by any means I could, to sell your ancestral lands. I was told to do whatever necessary, to beg, buy, or steal. I even planned on enlisting the help of Ian and Edwina in order to trick you into selling.”
“Is that why you made love with me?”
She felt the quick rush of tears and wiped furiously at them. “Of course not. What we shared was honest. And beautiful. And now that I understand what all this means to you, the price you paid to keep it, I would never make such an offer. I know now that this is, as you said, hallowed ground, and must remain in your possession for generations to come.”
“Then love has truly transformed us both.” A sad, haunt
ed smile touched the corner of his mouth and, though it cost him, he drew her close and brushed a kiss to her lips. “You never said the words. Do you truly love me?”
“With all my heart.” A sob caught in her throat. “I wish I had told you sooner. But please know how much I love you, Colin.”
“I can die in peace now, my love.”
“No! Oh, Colin, no.”
“Though the curse must be fulfilled, I will never leave you. Believe that.”
She felt him take a small breath. His hand went slack. His handsome face looked deceptively peaceful, as though he were merely at rest.
She couldn’t contain her overwhelming grief. Great, wrenching sobs were torn from her throat. And as she gathered him into her arms, she wept until there were no tears left.
CHAPTER TEN
Beside the little chapel in the garden, Beth stood to one side as the villagers paused at the fresh mound of earth to whisper a prayer or drop a rose petal onto the moist soil.
The chapel had been abuzz with the murder of young Hamish Campbell, and the rumor that Ian and Edwina, running from the scene, had been caught up in the churning, swollen waters of a stream and had both perished. As yet, their bodies had not been recovered.
It mattered not to Beth. Colin was dead, and whatever the fate of his stepsiblings, it wouldn’t bring him back to her.
When all the villagers had left, it was time for the staff of Stag’s Head Lodge to pay their final respects. Old Maura leaned heavily on the arm of the young serving lass, Glenna, tears streaming down both their faces. Mistress MacKay knelt to place a bowl of the laird’s favorite bread pudding on the grave. Poor Jamie could hardly contain the grief that had him rubbing at his eyes and turning away.
And then, finally, as the sun began to set and dusk settled over the land, Beth was alone. She dropped to her knees and allowed the tears to flow. Great choking sobs were torn from her throat as she knelt beside the grave, wishing with all her heart that she could join her love.
“How cruel of the Fates to give me a taste of true love, and then demand that I go on living alone,” she whispered.