Flame

by May McGoldrick

  Placing the wine and the cups beside the bed, he sat down next to her and moved beneath the blanket. Her icy feet touched his leg, and he could feel her shiver as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Sitting back against the carved headboard, he pulled her close to his side. Immediately, she nestled her head under his chin. It was a simple thing, this gesture of trust, but it wrapped his heart in a satisfying warmth.

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning.” He brushed his lips against her hair. “I want to know everything.”

  “You mean the first summer I came to Ironcross Castle?”

  “Nay,” he responded, shaking his head. “Why not start even earlier. Tell me of your childhood.”

  She turned her face up to his. “Are you asking this simply to put me at ease?”

  He looked down at the small smile that now graced her lips. He bowed his head and kissed them. Her lips were soft, supple, and they parted invitingly. But before he allowed himself to deepen the kiss and forget everything else, he pulled back with a deep sigh.

  “Joanna, there is so much about you that I want to know. After all, you are the only woman I have ever asked to be my wife.”

  “Your wife. You mean you still...?”

  Her words trailed off, but the frown that stole across her face, creasing her brow, told him quite clearly that she still had not yet come to grips with his proposal of marriage. But that was discussion for another time.

  “Tell me,” he encouraged. “As a wee lass, were you as serene and timid as you are now?”

  She snorted in response. “Serene and timid? Now those are words I do not recall ever hearing my mother or father use to describe me.”

  “Of course not! How could I forget? You were an only child!”

  “Aye. And not only that, but the last of the MacInnes line.”

  “You must have been a hellion.” He grinned. “I can see you now, headstrong, obstinate, and contrary. Was that it?”

  Joanna nodded as she nestled her head back onto his shoulder. “My grandsire Duncan died before I was born and my two elder uncles, Alexander and Thomas, never showed any interest in marrying. So, anyway, the whole family just treated me as their own darling.”

  “So in addition to being ornery by nature, you were spoiled and pampered as well.”

  “Aye, and worse,” she admitted. “My parents knew very little of what I did. They were perhaps a bit too consumed with one another, but they saw nothing wrong with giving me all that I sought. Between them and my two uncles’ endless indulgences, I am certain I would have ended up ruined forever if it hadn’t been for my grandmother’s influence.”

  “She does have an air of authority.”

  “You know her?” Joanna asked with great surprise.

  “Aye, she is a grand woman. I met her before leaving for the Highlands to claim Ironcross Castle.” Gavin ran his hand caressingly up and down her bare arm. “She was the one who first introduced you to me, my little enchantress, though only through her wondrous descriptions.”

  “Is she well?” Joanna asked softly, taking his other hand in her own. “It must have been crushing for her to hear of the death of my father and...the rest of us! ”

  “When I left her, she seemed somewhat frail in body, though she has a spirit--and a mind--that more than make up for what she has lost with age.” Gavin listened for a moment to the rain. “There was nothing that she said in my meeting with her that led me to believe she is ready to give up hope.”

  “Hope?” Joanna asked, looking up at him with puzzlement. “Do you think she suspects someone survived?”

  Gavin frowned. “I am not certain if she dared even to wish for such a miracle. But the way she talked--the way she convinced me to come to the Highlands--all made me believe that she still hoped that, at the very least, justice would be meted out to the ones responsible.”

  Gavin caught the change in Joanna’s expression. He saw her eyes shift and stare intently across the room. Something he’d just said had struck a cord in her troubled memory.

  “Does my description of Lady MacInnes fit what you recall of her?” he asked.

  She turned quickly and nodded with a half smile. “She always was quite determined, once she set her mind to something. As I said before, it was her influence and constant reproaches that set me on the right path. Did she say anything to you, when you last met...about me, I mean? Or about this castle?”

  “I thought I was the one asking the questions!”

  “You are,” she said softly, reaching up and smoothing the crease in his forehead with a gentle touch. “But after all I have learned in these months--I keep remembering certain things that she hinted to me in the years past. Looking back at it all--so much seems somehow related.”

  “She asked me to look for your portrait. To speak the truth, I believe that picture was the only thing that she ever hoped to recover from this castle.”

  She sat up straight in bed and turned to him. “Did she speak of anything else? Did she tell you about the disasters that have plagued our family?”

  Gavin watched as her fingers fluttered nervously in his encompassing hands. “She told me of the ways that each of her sons died, and she said that the curse of Ironcross Castle lies not in the realm of ghosts and goblins. She spoke of the evil that haunts the place, but she said ‘tis an evil that comes from the human heart.”

  “And she convinced you to seek the truth.”

  “Aye,” he nodded. “I have my own lands and my own people in the Borders. I never intended Ironcross Castle to be my home for good. The Earl of Angus gave me these lands--and I can see that the people here need a laird now to look out for them--but I never would have come to the Highlands had it not been for your grandmother’s visit.”

  “Are you sorry that you have come?” she asked quietly.

  He looked deeply into her blue eyes and answered truthfully. “I am indebted to your grandmother forever. She has introduced to me the warmth of the sun.” He brought her hand to his lips. “She introduced me to you.”

  Joanna quickly turned her face away, but not before Gavin saw the tears that trickled down her flawless cheek. Reluctantly, he allowed her to withdraw her hand from his grasp, but he remained where he was, studying her beautiful profile and waiting for her to find her words.

  In fact, he found his own throat dry, an unexpected emotion rising into his chest. His fingers ached to draw her back into his arms.

  With an effort, Gavin tore his eyes from her and looked across the chamber at the fire. He simply could not allow himself to feel this way. All his life he had seen death claim those he felt the strongest ties to, and he had sworn to himself that he would never again make that mistake. He was a warrior chief, a laird. He had duties to others and no need for anyone to be so close. Gavin never wanted to love or be loved again.

  But here she was, wreaking havoc on his heart.

  True, he thought, he had offered her marriage. But the offer was based on what was right and honorable. Of course, Gavin mused, he had never experienced a physical attraction toward anyone that came even close to the lightning that fired his blood each time he so much as looked at her. But, in any case, the marriage he offered was suitable to their situations. She could not live like a hermit beneath this keep; their marriage would allow her to get back what was rightfully hers. After all, Ironcross Castle should be hers, in spite of the actions of the Lord Chancellor and the fact that Gavin now had taken possession of it.

  But turning his gaze back to Joanna, he raised his hand to her silky skin and wiped away the glistening track of another tear.

  All true, he thought. And all a lie.

  “I still remember,” she said, breaking the silence. “After the first summer that I spent here at Ironcross, I returned to court and to my grandmother, full of life and tales of how much I loved the Highlands. Loved this place.” She dashed an escaping tear from her face with the back of her hand. “But her response was not at all what I expected. It stunned me with its
vehemence.” Joanna considered for a moment, her face reflecting the memory. “She raged at me, and I knew it somehow had to do with my feelings for the Highlands, but I couldn’t understand the reason. My love for Ironcross and this country was nothing new; she herself had lived for some years among these people. I had never before seen her so fierce in her anger.”

  “And did she stay angry long? Did she ever explain the reasons for her behavior?”

  Joanna’s brow knitted at the question. “Not right away, but her anger quickly subsided when I drew back from her, defending myself and this place. Then, inexplicably, my grandmother became almost frightened. I had never seen her like that, either. She pleaded with me. Then, finally, she began to tell me the things that she would later tell you. About the deaths of my grandsire and my uncles. About how their deaths looked like accidents. But she called them murders.”

  “Lady MacInnes never went so far in what she told me, though her meaning was clear enough. But did she ever speak to you of proof? Did she accuse anyone specifically? Was it your grandmother who accused Mater?”

  Joanna stared silently for a moment. Gavin could plainly see the struggle that she was going through.

  “Joanna, when was it first that you suspected Mater?”

  Her eyes snapped up to his, but she said nothing.

  “Talk to me, Joanna,” he pressed. “We’re in this together.”

  “This is my battle. Not yours.”

  “Nay.” He shook his head. “Perhaps that was so before I came up here. But, to the world, at least, I am laird of Ironcross Castle. And now, especially after tonight, ‘tis very much my concern.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You have added no obligation because of tonight, but...” She raised a hand to silence his response. “You should be interested in this because of the fire in this room last night. That was no accident, you know. Someone was here. And they tried to kill you!” She looked down for a long moment at the redness of her hands. “You’re correct. Your life is in danger and you do have the right to know.”

  “Fear of death has nothing to do with my desire to learn the truth. But having you beside me--openly, alive, and safe--that is what is driving me now.”

  Her eyes were glowing when they focused on his. The affection Gavin saw in their depths made him draw in his breath. In the back of his mind came a pounding ache of grim memories of death, of those who had died, of those who had loved him.

  “When was it that you first suspected Mater?” he demanded again, his voice sounding harsh to his own ear as he repeated the question. “From all I have heard from others, you and she were great friends before the fire.”

  “We were friends,” she answered. “At one time, in fact, I was foolish enough to admire her. I defended her.”

  “Defended her against whom?”

  “Against my grandmother.”

  “Did Lady MacInnes dislike her? Did she know Mater well?”

  Joanna shook her head. “For all the years that the MacInnes men were lairds of these lands, I believe my grandmother spent very little time here. So I cannot imagine her ever having the chance to spend much time at the abbey--especially with Mater. But then, as I told you before, after that first summer--when I returned from the Highlands--it was my talk and praise of Mater that upset my grandmother the most.”

  “And it was then that you spoke in her behalf?”

  “I did.” She nodded. “And wrongly so. I know that now.”

  “But did your grandmother give you a reason for her feelings?”

  Joanna nodded again slowly. “Aye, my grandmother hates Mater because she is the one responsible for all the deaths at Ironcross Castle. Is that not reason enough?”

  “Aye,” he said grimly. “‘Tis reason enough...if true. But what proof did she speak of?”

  Joanna shook her head again. “She was quite unwilling to reveal anything specific. That was why I defended Mater so strenuously. But I was so naive,” she said bitterly, running her hand absently over the blanket.

  “Joanna, tell me what happened.” He tried to sound encouraging. “Make me understand what you felt, what you saw.”

  “That fall, when I returned to Stirling, I was so full of dreams. During the summer, I’d had the chance to meet and work with Mater and with the women of the abbey. To me they had become the most incredible people alive. They were dedicated; they were good. I remember being so impressed by the strength of their will, by the amazing bond between them as they carried on in their efforts to help and protect their flock. So here, with that admiration well set in my mind, I went back to court and found my own grandmother calling the leader of these people ‘the daughter of Satan himself”!” Joanna shook her head in frustration. “But whatever I said, no matter how much I pleaded, she simply refused to say any more.”

  She fisted one hand and pressed it into her palm. “I had been brought up not to believe in court gossip. I have never been one to participate in idle talk. And now, so far as I could see, the same woman who had taught me those values seemed to be expecting me to accept her words without question. She demanded that I stay away from Mater and the women she had gathered around her.”

  Gavin placed his hand on hers and drew her eyes up to his. “But when you came back to the Highlands the following fall--in spite of what she had told you--you still went back to the abbey.”

  “I did,” she whispered. “And it hurts me now to admit that I decided to go against my grandmother’s words.”

  “And then, something happened.”

  “Aye, something happened,” she answered, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “In my last visit to the abbey, I accidentally happened to overhear a conversation about a gathering that was about to take place. A ritual of some sort for the women. My curiosity was aroused, and though I was not invited, I was determined to find out what I could.”

  Gavin noted the way her hands now clutched at the blanket, so he reached over and took them in his own. She glanced up at him, almost startled by his attention.

  “Where was this meeting, Joanna?”

  “In the vault beneath the castle,” she whispered hoarsely. “In the same room where the crypts lay.”

  Joanna shivered and Gavin himself felt a sudden chill sweep through the room. Looking in the direction of the hearth, he gazed for a moment at the fire. “So you went there?”

  “I wanted to. You see, they were to meet that night. ‘Twas a full moon. But it would not be so easy. Earlier in the day, a message had come from the castle that the Earl of Athol was due to arrive. I knew he would come, and I knew there would be harsh words between John and my father...on account of my betrothal. So there was no way I could excuse myself.”

  Gavin pulled up the blanket and covered her bare shoulder with it. “And this was the night of the fire.”

  “Aye. The same terrible night.” Joanna nodded and shivered again. “I stayed as long as I could in the Great Hall. And as I had suspected, my father and Athol took up their argument. But to my dismay, they grew angrier than I had ever seen either of them. Finally, using their unwillingness to reason as an excuse, I fled back to my room and entered the passages. I wanted to get to the vault before the moon rose.”

  “How did you know your way around?” Gavin asked curiously.

  “From Athol,” she whispered. “The summer before, I had been able to talk him into showing me the tunnels and the caverns. He even took me as far as Hell’s Gate.”

  “‘Tis a wonder that the laird of the neighboring lands might be so knowledgeable about the secrets of this keep!”

  “Not so. The caverns are no secret. From what he told me, my own father had shown him the secret passageways when they were mere lads. Later, when my father had grown, Athol still spent many days roaming those passages, for there were many years, after my grandsire passed away, when neither of my uncles wanted to take their permanent seat as laird. Athol said those were the years when he and his friends would explore the caverns of Ironcross for the sheer adventure
of it. Around that time, my father would occasionally return to the Highlands as well. From all I hear, at one time they were very close.”

  Joanna wrapped her hair around one hand, “Athol told me that everyone thought the castle a haunted place. ‘Twas a true test of manhood for the young lads living nearby to cross the footbridge at Hell’s Gate.”

  Gavin had to force his mind and attention back to the events of that fatal night. He wished to know more about Athol--and about this Hell’s Gate--but that information would have to wait a bit.

  “Tell me what happened next...the night of the fire...when you went into the tunnels.”

  “‘Twas easy to find the vault, but the place was silent as death itself.” Joanna jumped suddenly as a gust of wind tore through the window, banging the wooden shutters hard against the walls. She clutched the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. “So I decided to stay and hide myself--and wait.”

  “And did they come?” Gavin asked.

  The wind was whistling into the chamber, and the warrior looked irritably toward the open windows. Pushing back the covers, he strode across the chamber to close the shutters. Outside, it appeared that a tempest was brewing, and the rain that spattered against his naked skin was sharp and cold. With some effort, he pushed the shutters closed and latched them shut. Turning back to Joanna, he was amazed at how fragile and frightened she suddenly looked. He considered all the hardships she had endured during these months--the strength she must have worked so hard to garner simply to stay alive. And now, for the moment, all of it seemed to have drained completely out of her.

  He reached the bed and, in a gesture that cut straight to his heart, Joanna gazed up and drew back the covers, opening her arms to him. Gavin gathered her tightly to his side. It was so easy to lose himself in her embrace. She was indeed an enchantress, robbing him of every shield, every barrier he had built up over the years. She laid her hand against his heart, touching him where he had thought surely he had constructed the greatest protection. He could see now how wrong he had been.