Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

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Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection Page 50

by Lana Williams


  She walked across the room slowly, then reached down behind her and settled atop the pallet. Her eyes were fastened to him the whole time.

  “Onyx, I’m here for you. Please, talk to me. Mayhap I can help.” She held out her hand to him, but he was too upset by everything that had happened, that he couldn’t take it. Instead, he paced back and forth when he relayed to her what just happened inside the hospice.

  “Well, mayhap it’s not true,” she said, and he knew she was only trying to make him feel better. “Mayhap they have the story mixed up. You should wait until you see your mother and ask her.”

  “Why?” he ground out. “So she can lie te me again, the way she’s done fer the last twenty years?”

  “She cares for you, Onyx. She raised you as her son, so that should count for something.”

  “It counts for naught, I tell ye. And now thet I ken she is a murderer and a thief, fer all I ken she coulda killed me parents and stolen me too.”

  “Now, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

  He stopped pacing and let out a deep breath, his eyes closing for a second in the process. Then he reopened them again.

  “Nay, I dinna believe thet fer a moment,” he said softly. “Becooz somethin’ happened te me four years ago thet I forced meself te ferget becooz I thought it was all a lie.”

  “Sit down, please.” She patted the pallet next to her. When he sat, she gently laid her hand atop his and urged him to continue. “What happened four years ago?” she asked.

  When he was silent for a moment, she rubbed her fingers over his hand, and it felt good and calming. Much like his mother – or Fenella, used to do.

  “I was approached by the Lowland clan of the Kerrs four years ago. I was by meself in the Lowlands when they found me. They said their chieftain and a few of their men had been taken captive by some English bastards. They had them in the dungeon at the border at Montclair Castle. It was a new castle being built. They wanted me te rescue them. The castle’s defenses were low at the time, so it would be easy te do. I wanted te do it, as it was a challenge and somethin’ I’d ne’er done afore.”

  “Why would they ask you, a Highlander, to do it? And why would you really consider such a dangerous act when you knew your life would be at stake?”

  “I live fer danger, as it makes me feel alive. I was in the Lowlands searchin’ fer adventure at the time, so I accepted. And the reason they asked me was becooz the lady o’ the castle told them she was related te the MacKeefes. An obvious lie, as no MacKeefe would be related te the English.”

  “But I thought Clarista was English?” said Lovelle. “And didn’t Storm marry an Englishwoman too?”

  “Aye,” he said with a nod of his head. He knew they were English, but he had always thought of them as Scottish and part of the clan. Probably the same way they thought of him . . . until now.

  “So what happened? Did you help them escape?”

  “I succeeded,” he said. “But the lady o’ the castle caught me, and once she saw me dagger, she somehow kent me name.” He rubbed his hand over his dagger when he said it.

  “That makes no sense at all.”

  “I ken what ye say. And then the girl told me she was me sister. And when a man appeared, she said he was me . . . me . . . faither.”

  “Your father? Really? How exciting. Then you know who they are.”

  “Nay. I dinna ken their names. And neither do I want te. The man said his son was deid.”

  The door opened just then and Aidan, Ian, and Clarista hurried in. Snow swirled around their feet across the floor in a cold gust of air as they closed the door behind them.

  “Ye fergot Tawpie,” said Aidan, handing over the wildcat to him. Onyx put the cat on his knee, but it went over and plopped down in Lovelle’s lap instead. She jerked backward, taking her hand from his, but he reached out and put her hand gently on the kitten’s fur.

  “Pet her so she’ll like ye.”

  “But she swiped at me before. And she’s . . . wild.”

  “And so am I,” he said quietly.

  She did as he told her, but cautiously. The cat closed its eyes, seeming content and went to sleep.

  “Onyx, I don’t like to see you so upset,” said Clarista, hurrying over to him. “I never should have told you.”

  “’Tis all right,” he said, and forced a sad smile. “I need te ken the truth. So . . . this box.” He pointed to it, not even able to touch it. “’Twas to be me coffin, wasna it?”

  Clarista just looked at him, and he knew it was the truth.

  “So me parents didna want me becooz o’ me eyes.”

  “Dagger, thet’s not true,” said Ian, pulling up a chair and sitting on it.

  “Nay, ’tis true,” Onyx said with a shake of his head. “I was meant te die in thet box.” His eyes went over to the wooden chest and he felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. “God’s eyes, I woulda died and be at the bottom o’ the ocean right now if Fenella hadna saved me.”

  “Tell her about the Englishman who is your father,” said Lovelle.

  Onyx told them his story, and then Clarista smiled and nodded. “I think I know who you are, Onyx. My cousin, Mirabelle, birthed four girls before she birthed a baby boy and died. Her husband, Talbot, hates the Scots, so I haven’t seen the girls or talked to him since my cousin’s death. I believe you might be her son.” She walked over and grabbed his hands in hers and got down to her knees. “Don’t you see? If this is true, then you are related to the MacKeefes after all, Onyx. You need to go to them when you return to England and you need to find the truth.”

  “I dinna want te go te a family who disna want me.”

  “Dagger, ye should,” said Aidan. “You need to ken who ye really are.”

  “And ye’ll always be our friend, no matter what ye find out,” said Ian.

  “That’s right,” said Clarista, squeezing his hands and looking directly into his eyes. “Do it, for my dear cousin, and the sisters you may have. Even if you have ill feelings toward your father.”

  “Please, Onyx,” said Lovelle. “I can help you find them.”

  Onyx felt so alone in the world and also so confused. He also felt like he needed to know the truth or it would eat him up inside. He would approach his mother when they arrived in England, but if she still lied to him, he would have to find the truth on his own.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it. So who was yer cousin, Clarista, and how do I find her family?”

  “Her name was Mirabelle,” said Clarista with a smile. “And her daughters’ names are Ruby, Sapphire, Amber and Amethyst.”

  “All named after gems,” he said, holding up his dagger and looking at it. He wondered if it was just a coincidence that he was named after a gem as well, and had this dagger.

  “That’s right,” said Clarista, “I never really thought about it, but you have the name of a gem too.”

  “Where did I get this dagger?” he asked her, already knowing what she was going to say.

  “Fenella said she found it under your little body in the chest,” Clarista answered. “So you see, that dagger must have been put there for a reason.”

  “What is the name o’ yer cousin’s husband?” he asked. “The man thet may be me faither?”

  “His name is Talbot,” she informed him. “He is the earl of Blackpool, so you can find him there.”

  “Blackpool?” asked Lovelle, sounding surprised. “Why, what a coincidence. That’s exactly where my son, Charles, is being fostered. With the Earl of Blackpool.”

  Onyx didn’t like this at all. He had that aching feeling in his bones again when Lovelle said it. He knew he should just give her the book and send her to England by herself and just forget all about the woman who called herself his mother. He should also forget about his supposed sisters and the man who might be his father who discarded him like naught more than trash.

  “What are ye goin’ te do, Dagger?” asked Ian.

  “Aye,” said Aida
n. “Do ye really want te go and find out? Or are ye goin’ te jest stay here wit’ us?”

  He looked at his friends, and all the memories they had together through the years flooded his mind. Then he looked into Clarista’s eyes, remembering how kind she had been to him throughout his life. He didn’t want to leave his friends, and he also didn’t want to disappoint Clarista. He felt sorry for her that she was never able to know her cousin’s children because of the hatred between the Scots and the English.

  But for some reason, Onyx still felt loyal to Fenella, even if she was a murderer, a thief, and most of all a liar. Probably because she had been the only mother he knew for the last twenty years, whether it was a farce or not.

  He looked over to Lovelle, wondering if she were a witch, and also wondering how he had gotten himself into such a situation. He was a discarded baby, and not even Scottish. Now, he was about to take a trip with someone who would probably bring a curse upon him when she finally figured out the charms in the book.

  Any man in his right mind would remove himself from this situation and not go digging into a tarnished past, nor engage in a future that looked to be nothing but the same. He didn’t need this kind of turmoil in his life right now, and had rocks in his head if he really thought any of this would turn out well in the end.

  “Dagger?” asked Ian with a smile on his face.

  “Dagger?” echoed Aidan with a grin as well. His friends waited for his answer, and they knew him well.

  He looked over to the box again, and felt as if he couldn’t breathe. As if his world were closing in around him and he was trapped, suffocating, and little by little he was dying. It wasn’t a good feeling at all, and he figured it might be some kind of omen, warning him not to go.

  “Aye,” he heard himself saying, feeling as if a foreign voice were coming from his mouth. “I like an adventure and I live fer danger, so aye . . . I will do it!”

  Chapter 11

  It was snowing again when Onyx said goodbye to the MacKeefe clan the next morning. He knew Lovelle was only too happy she’d convinced him to wait til morning to start on their journey back to England.

  Clarista had given a cloak and gloves to Lovelle to replace her lost ones, and to keep her warm. The woman had also insisted Onyx wear a cloak, and he only agreed to it to get her to stop bothering him, though he didn’t feel as if he needed it. Still, he thought Lovelle might get cold later and he could offer it to her, so he took it.

  The chieftain had been glowering at her since he’d decided she really was a witch, and he kept his distance, not even wanting to say goodbye to them as they mounted the horse to leave. Onyx felt bad about that, but he still had his doubts about Lovelle too, and knew he’d have to keep an eye out for anything strange she might do along the way.

  “I put some food, ale, and blankets in yer travel bags,” Isobelle told him.

  “I put a surprise in there fer ye as well,” said Aidan with a chuckle.

  “Are ye sure we canna come wit’ ye?” asked Ian, clasping Onyx’s arm and patting him on the back, saying goodbye.

  “Nay,” answered Onyx. “This is somethin’ I have te do meself. But I swear I will be back so dinna fret aboot it.”

  “Ye can take me horse so ye’ll no’ have te share one,” said Aidan. Onyx almost laughed when he saw the damned squirrel sitting on his friend’s shoulder like some kind of pet bird.

  “We’ll be fine,” he said, helping Lovelle up onto the horse. He rather liked the idea of riding together, as he missed feeling her body pressed against him even if she were a damned witch. Besides, the clan only had a few horses, and being up in the Highlands in the winter, they needed them should they get in a predicament. He would try to get another horse later when they stopped in Glasgow.

  “Keep an eye on Tawpie fer me,” he said, clasping Aidan’s arm in a goodbye. “Ye may want to make sure she disna eat yer new pet.”

  “I’ve named the squirrel, Reid, for its color,” said Aidan proudly running a hand over the squirrel’s red fur. “Dinna worry though, Dagger, becooz I can guarantee ye thet Tawpie will be nowhere near me squirrel.”

  “Aidan . . . ye didna . . . did ye?” Onyx tore open the travel bags tied to the horse, digging through them looking for his kitten. His hand brushed over the box with the book inside and he thought he heard a noise. He looked down to see an eye peeking through the carved wood on the top and almost jumped out of his skin.

  “Tawpie, get outta there afore ye eat the book.” He opened up the box and with one hand lifted the cat out by the scruff of its neck. Its green eyes looked up at him innocently, and a rolling, low purring resounded in its chest. Its black stripes were becoming more and more pronounced on its tawny fur every day, and the dark rings around its tail were getting fatter. He could see it growing quickly. “Ye’re no’ coming wit’,” he said, holding the cat out for Aidan to take.

  It hissed, and fussed and squirmed, not wanting to stay behind.

  “Let her come, Onyx,” he heard Lovelle’s sweet voice begging him from atop the horse.

  He turned to look at her, the cat still dangling from his fingers. “I thought ye didna like me cat.”

  “I’ve had a change of heart. I’ll . . . hold her if you want.” Her hands were out, and Tawpie nearly jumped from his hands and landed on her lap, rubbing up against her.

  “Ye ken thet is a Scottish wildcat. And I’m no’ responsible fer anythin’ it does.”

  “I know,” she said, petting it carefully, keeping her hand far away from its mouth and its claws.

  “And ye do realize thet though ’tis jest a kitten, some day its teeth will grow larger, longer, and sharper.”

  “That’s the risk I’m willing to take,” she said, and her smile about melted him on the spot. This is what he liked about her. Though all the odds may be stacked against her, she never seemed to show fear, or give up hope.

  “All right,” he said, closing up the bag and giving Clarista and Isobelle a hug. “I’ll be back soon te let ye ken what I learn aboot me new family. That is, if they really are me family.”

  “Tell Talbot we’d like him to come visit us in the Highlands,” said Clarista. “He’s never been here and it is about time.”

  “Thet’s becooz he hates the Scots,” growled the chieftain from behind her.

  “That’ll change,” said Clarista, taking her husband’s hand in hers. “Once he meets his long lost son, he’ll accept the Scots once again. After all, you hated the English not that long ago, and you changed your mind, if I must remind you.”

  “No’ aboot all o’ them,” he grumbled.

  Onyx nodded to him and got atop the horse. His arm held Lovelle around the waist and his legs pushed up against her from behind. It felt good, too damned good, and he was having a hard time staying angry with her for having tricked him. Riding this close to her wasn’t going to be easy.

  He looked down to the MacKeefes – his family, all waving and wishing him a safe journey. He found himself wondering if his new family would welcome him with open arms just the same. Then he remembered the angered look of hatred upon the man’s face that day four years ago. The man that Clarista said was probably the Earl of Blackpool. His father! That man seemed to already hate him though he didn’t even know him. And the more he thought about what the man supposedly did to him as a baby, the more he realized he hated him too.

  He wondered about his real mother and if it were true she’d died birthing him. Then he thought of the woman who pretended to be his mother, and her lies made him even angrier. This was a bad idea to go to England, he felt it in his bones. But now that he said he’d do it, he knew he could not break his word.

  “Yah!” He kicked his heels into the horse and headed over the hills toward the border. “Let’s get this over wit’,” he said more to himself than to Lovelle, suddenly feeling as if he wanted nothing to do with the Earl of Blackpool, nor Fenella ever again.

  * * *

  It was late that night when Onyx finally
stopped at the Horn and Hoof Pub for the night. Lovelle was so cold, and also so thankful that Onyx wasn’t going to make her sleep on the ground again.

  “Onyx,” called the pubkeeper from the door, waving his hand.

  “Callum, guid te see ye.” He dismounted quickly and reached up for Lovelle. The cat was on her lap and awoke and jumped to the ground, taking its warmth with it.

  She put out her arms and when her feet hit the ground, their eyes interlocked and his hands lingered on her waist. She was glad he wasn’t so angry with her anymore, and only wished it was day and she could see the colors of his eyes, hair, and face, looking something other than black and white.

  She truly hoped there was a charm in the book that would help her to conquer her color blindness, as no one knew how difficult it was to look out of her eyes and see the world the way she did. She felt as if she were missing all the vibrancy of life - all the beauty of the entire world. And she was. She remembered the blue sky and the green fields and the bright red and pinks of the flowers from before she’d birthed her baby. She wanted that again. She wanted to see the color of the MacKeefes’ plaids and also the cat’s eyes. She wanted to see the color of Onyx’s flushed cheeks after they made love. If they ever did again, and she didn’t know if they ever would.

  “Ye are no’ bringin’ her in here, are ye?” asked Callum, when he saw her dismount as well.

  “Why no’?” Onyx asked.

  “Becooz when ye left wit’ her, it wasna on guid terms wit’ the rest of the Scots.”

  “Is Storm and his family still here?” Onyx looked around him, but no one was really outside on such a cold day.

  “Nay,” said Callum.

  Onyx took the travel bags off the horse and signaled to a boy standing in the entrance to the stables. He ran over and Onyx handed him the reins of his horse. The young boy took them and headed back to the stables quickly.

  “Are there women and children here?” He continued his conversation with old Callum.

 

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