True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse

by Claire Delacroix

  Garrett led Yseult into a fenced yard on the downhill side of the hut. Below this area, the ground dropped steeply again and was thickly cloaked in trees of all kinds. Annelise glimpsed the sparkle of the sea, and she marveled at the serenity of the place. Garrett tethered Yseult in a lean-to and lifted Annelise down.

  “What is this place?” she asked when he said naught.

  “Home.” He looked about himself with fondness and a bit of regret. “I grew up here.”

  With that, he took a bucket from within the hut and went to the stream to fill it. He called no greeting and clearly assumed that no one would be in residence to greet him. Annelise turned in place, wondering at this, and saw a mound of freshly turned earth beyond the house.

  A garden perhaps, abandoned after being turned in the spring. Why? Because Garrett had left to track the wolf? Or had he been gone longer than that?

  “Will we stay here?” she asked Garrett when he returned with the brimming pail.

  “For this night and perhaps tomorrow,” he said, glancing at the hills above the road. “We will see what dawn brings.” Yseult began to drink greedily even as Garrett scanned the forest yet again.

  Annelise removed her pack and unbuckled the saddle. Garrett hefted off the saddle and set it on the ground, even as Annelise looked about herself. Garrett went into the hut and returned with a bucket of oats, an offering that pleased Yseult mightily.

  “There is a brush in the hut,” Garrett said. “I should have brought it. I used to use it upon the goats, but it is the best choice we have. Will you get it? It will be back by the trunk.”

  “Of course. You raised goats, then,” Annelise said. “That is why you knew how to tend those at Seton Manor.”

  “We had at least thirty at any time.” Garrett smiled in recollection. “They could be amusing creatures, and there is naught so fine as their milk.” He took the blanket from Yseult’s back and Annelise noted the patina of perspiration on the mare’s coat.

  She had to get the brush.

  Annelise went into the hut, curious beyond all. It was dark and cool inside, and smelled of dried herbs. She opened the shutters on one window to admit the moonlight and surveyed the neat abode. Blackened stones on the floor indicated where a fire was often kindled, and there was a hole in the roof above the spot. A tripod stood near the stones for the fire. There were cupboards and shelves along that wall, and Annelise could discern two pots, three bowls and a pair of oil lanterns. On the opposite wall were three stools and three straw pallets, pegs on the wall for garments. It was all very tidy and clean. Against the back wall was a painted trunk that seemed to hold pride of place.

  She found the brush on a shelf above the trunk, just as Garrett had said. She eyed the trunk and could not resist her curiosity. She opened it to see that something was wrapped with care on the very top. She peeked inside the wrap, only to find a garment in the process of being sewn. Even in the minimal light, Annelise could see that the green cloth was fine, so fine and with such a sheen that it could only be made of silk.

  A silk garment in this place? It seemed incongruous.

  Unless there was more to Garrett’s life than Annelise had guessed.

  Annelise resolved to find out. She took the brush to Garrett, bringing the bundle with her. He barely spared her a glance, but commenced to brush down Yseult. “What have you found?” he asked, without much interest. It was clear that he believed he knew the contents of the hut, and also that he had no secrets from her.

  Annelise smiled at him, liking his trust well, then unwrapped the silk garment. It was a silk kirtle, one fit for a noblewoman, though not yet finished. The stitches were small and the embroidery was most fine. One sleeve needed to be set in to complete the garment.

  It was beautiful.

  She shook it out and it shimmered in the moonlight. The intended wearer was not just a woman but of a height with her. That gave Annelise an unwelcome thought.

  Had Garrett lived here with his lady wife? Or had he been promised to another? She could not help but believe that this was a garment intended for a bride.

  And a noblewoman.

  “What is that?” Garrett demanded. He left Yseult and came to her side, frowning as he stared at the fine cloth.

  “Do you not know?”

  He shook his head, so clearly mystified that Annelise was reassured. Still, she had to ask. “Did you bring it with you?”

  Annelise shook her head. “It was in the trunk. Is it the bridal gown of your lady wife?”

  Garrett shrugged off the suggestion. “How could Mhairi have known of you before I did?”

  “A fine garment for Mhairi?” she guessed. Garrett had mentioned her name before.

  Garrett smiled and shook his head. “Mhairi raised me as her own son,” he confessed. “A more stalwart and robust woman could not be found between here and London. She would need three garments such as this to make one.”

  “But her seams are well made?”

  “Very well made. Seamus always told her she could have sewn for a lady.” He felt silent then, his throat working.

  “Your father,” Annelise guessed.

  “So I had believed, until last winter.”

  “I should like to meet them,” Annelise said softly when he made no such offer.

  Garrett turned and gestured to the mound of earth. Annelise was sure she saw tears in his eyes. “Sadly, it is too late for that,” he said quietly. “And the fault is mine.”

  That was the moment that Annelise discerned the pair of crosses driven into that freshly turned earth. It was a grave, one that had not been dug long ago.

  “You did that,” she guessed and he nodded once. “Tell me.”

  Garrett took a deep breath, surveying the small clearing as if he saw a thousand memories alive in this place. Then he shoved a hand through his hair and stared down at the ground. “I was raised here. It is the only place I ever knew. And they—” he nodded toward the graves “—were the only kin I ever knew.”

  “Mhairi and Seamus,” Annelise murmured.

  “I thought for years that I was their only child. I tended the goats and they taught me all they knew. Seamus had fought in France, then left the life of warfare to marry his love and live in tranquility. He taught me how to fight. He was a man who said little but whose actions said all. Mhairi taught me about the plants and the woods and the creatures within it. She was a woman who told tales and baked bannocks and loved with her heart and soul.”

  He turned to look at the surrounding forest, peering into its depths as if he sought to see them there. “She shared your affection for wolves, though I did not.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Years ago, I saw a wolf when I was tending the goats in the hills. I thought it followed us, though it was evasive as wolves are. I only caught glimpses of it. I thought I saw it that night and the next day again. I was a mere boy but had already seen what a wolf could do to a goat left out of the paddock for the night. On the third day, I refused to take the goats to pasture alone. When Mhairi heard the tale, she resolved to come with me on the next day. The wolf came out of the shadows to her once we were in the pasture, and I saw it clearly for the first time. To my surprise, it was pure white.”

  “With blue eyes,” Annelise guessed.

  Garrett gave her a glance. “To my further surprise, Mhairi called to the wolf and offered it food from our own larder. I feared the worst, but the wolf was as docile as a trained hound. It ate daintily from her hand and slept beside us after its meal. It trailed behind us when we returned home that night. Much reassured, I began to do as Mhairi had done, and for a long time, that white wolf and I had an unlikely companionship. One day, though, it did not appear. I believed it had moved on to another part of the forest, for wolves are known to wander.”

  “Perhaps it was injured,” Annelise said.

  “Like you, Mhairi was concerned for the white wolf. She bade me look for it, and she herself sought it out. We never found it. Perhaps it died
. Mhairi never ceased to ask after it, for she never believed it to be dead.”

  “How long do wolves live?”

  “Not so long as that.” Garrett sighed. “I thought that Mhairi became confused as she grew older. She became so agitated about the white wolf that sometimes I told her I had glimpsed it again. She was always very relieved when I told her as much, although it was not possible. That wolf would have been long dead.”

  “Was she ever confused about anything else?”

  Garrett shook his head. “Only the white wolf.” He sighed and stared at the graves. “And so the years passed and I grew to manhood, with both of them teaching me all they knew. I was content to live with them, particularly as they became older and less able to do all the labor that had to be done. Then Seamus had a fall last winter. He slipped on the ice on the path and did himself some injury that did not heal, despite Mhairi’s efforts. He took to his bed and moved little, even less without my aid. I often overheard them arguing, which they had never done before.” He paused. “They were arguing about me.”

  “They wanted you to wed.”

  Garrett nodded. “Mhairi wanted to send me away, to plead my case at some court. Seamus insisted it was madness to even think of such a deed.”

  “What case?”

  “That was what I asked, when I interrupted them that day.” Garrett fixed her with a look. “They were shocked that I had listened to them, and Seamus was most vexed with me. He told me to forget whatever I had heard. Mhairi, though, insisted that I was the rightful heir of a holding. She said that I had been cast out by my own father as an infant and cheated of my due. She wanted me to go to my father, for she was certain that he could not deny a man as easily as he had denied a babe. Seamus did not share her view.”

  “So, they told you of your lineage.”

  Garrett nodded. “I was not overly interested in these tidings or this quest. I was too shocked to learn that I was not their child. I could not believe that they had never given a hint of this truth in twenty-five years. Indeed, I called it a falsehood, and Seamus took offense for his word was his bond. Mhairi then said I could not continue to live there alone, without a wife or child, for she could not bear the possibility of my being alone for all my days. I insisted I would not leave them. It was clear they had need of my assistance. Seamus declared they had no need of me and our tempers rose. They said much and I said more, and then, I did leave. I was stung that the people I trusted most in the world had deceived me and would cast me out.”

  “If you were the laird’s son, they were protecting you.”

  Garrett nodded. “You speak aright, and when my temper cooled, I realized as much. I went to confront my supposed father and was denied a hearing. He called the tale a lie and cast me out unseen. I could not articulate my case, if indeed I had one.”

  “Your malady grew worse there,” Annelise guessed, but Garrett neither confirmed nor denied that.

  “Perhaps I had gone to the wrong keep.”

  “You believed Mhairi.”

  “She never lied to me. I returned here, to apologize for my anger and ask more questions, but it was too late.” His gaze trailed to the mound of earth.

  “Surely they could not have passed away so suddenly.”

  “They were killed,” Garrett said, his tone harsh. “They were killed by a wolf, the same wolf that killed the entire flock of goats in my absence.”

  Annelise caught her breath.

  “I returned to a scene of carnage and bloodshed. I caught a glimpse of the wolf, circling, and vowed it would not survive the season. It was distinctive, with those dark legs and snout. I buried Mhairi and Seamus, regretting all I had said and pledging to do right by them. I burned the bodies of the goats, regretting their loss. I blamed the white wolf for this travesty. Perhaps it had led the ravaging wolf close, perhaps not. If nothing else, it had encouraged Mhairi’s trust, which was misplaced in a predator such as a wolf.”

  Annelise put her hand over his, understanding now why he so distrusted wolves.

  Garrett squeezed her fingers. “Mostly I blamed myself. I should have never left them, not even for a day. I had known that Seamus could not walk on his own, and I had known that Mhairi was feeble. But in my anger, I left them alone and undefended, and that was their undoing.”

  “You hunted the wolf,” Annelise whispered.

  He nodded again, his expression grim. “I sharpened my knife and I packed all that I would take from this place. I set out to hunt the wolf that had stolen everything of merit from my life.” He lifted his gaze to meet Annelise’s, his eyes so cold that she shivered. “In the end, I killed it, when it would have taken you, as well.”

  He looked determined and fierce, his eyes a vivid blue and his jaw set. Annelise knew that Garrett would never hesitate to do what had to be done, but in this, she feared he did not see all of the truth. She ached for his loss, but she had to ensure he did not err.

  *

  Annelise swallowed, then put her hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Will you not consider that the wolf brought you to me, that we might not have found each other without your quest? There is wickedness in its deed, but not all that came of it was bad.”

  Garrett heaved a sigh. He turned her hand in his, then smiled crookedly at her. “Trust you to find the gold in the dross,” he murmured, then bent to kiss her gently.

  Annelise tasted the loneliness in his kiss and flung her arms around his neck. She stretched up to her toes to kiss him more fully, demanding more of him in her need to give. Garrett’s arms locked around her and he deepened his kiss, reminding her of the pleasure they’d shared the night before.

  He broke their kiss when her blood was simmering and spared a glance at the moon. “And yet still there is a wolf,” he said with determination. “I will not see a wolf steal from me again in this place.”

  “Would you not consider that the white wolf has aided us?”

  “It stalks us, Annelise, or perhaps it stalks you. I know wolves and I know how they hunt. I know you want to believe in goodness, but in this matter, you err.”

  Annelise looked over the peaceful glade, then down at the silk in her hands. “Where is the white wolf?” she asked softly.

  “I do not know. It might be too distant to be discerned.”

  Annelise looked up. “You did not know it was in the stables last night.”

  Garrett frowned. “I slept deeply.”

  “I do not think you could sleep so deeply that you did not hear a predator,” Annelise argued softly. She shook a finger at him. “I think the wolf is not a mortal creature. I think it is Fae, and that is why you cannot hear it.”

  Garrett’s lips tightened. “And what of the other, the one I killed? You say it is Fae, but I heard its thoughts. That is how I tracked it.”

  “Half-Fae,” Annelise said quietly. “Her mother chose shape shifting as her sole Fae gift. Just as yours chose the ability to hear the thought of mortal creatures as your gift.”

  “Curse,” Garrett corrected tightly.

  Annelise leaned close to him and held his gaze. “Do you know my thoughts, Garrett?”

  He shook his head, indicating that he could not or would not answer her directly. “Mhairi told me that I should know the woman intended to be my true love, for she would offer me solace.”

  Annelise nodded, for she was not surprised. Then she bit her lip at a detail recalled from her last dream. “Mhairi and Seamus must have known all your life that you were not their son. Why were you not aware of their thoughts?”

  He looked discomfited. “Seamus had doubts, but did not care,” he acknowledged.

  “You could not hear Mhairi’s thoughts, either, could you?” Annelise leaned closer to him and dropped her voice. “What if she was Fae?”

  Garrett flung out his hands. “This is madness! First you would have me trust a wolf, then you say my foster mother was Fae. I knew her, all my life…”

  “And she hid a key truth from you, all your life, even though it m
ust have been in her thoughts. In my dream, she had surrendered many of her Fae gifts to be with her love, a mortal man, and one of her sacrifices was the ability to bear him a son. She adopted you instead.” Their gazes held as she challenged him to accept her conclusion, but Garrett shoved a hand through his hair with impatience.

  “I must see to Yseult’s safety, then our own,” he said, his tone crisp. He led Yseult into a stable that leaned against one end of the hut. He tethered her there, put her food and water within reach, and hung her trap in the stable. Annelise had a glimpse of Yseult drooping her head to doze before Garrett closed and locked the door.

  He then accompanied Annelise into the hut. He kindled a fire on the hearth, then closed the shutter she had opened. He went to the stream with several buckets and returned moments later with them brimming with water. He poured water into a kettle and hung it over the fire, the sight filling Annelise with yearning for a hot wash.

  “What of the kirtle?” she asked, even as she set the fine silk down. She could not help but stroke the fine cloth and struggled with a strange conviction that not only had Mhairi’s labor been left incomplete but that she should finish it.

  Garrett shrugged, not nearly as intrigued as Annelise. “Mhairi must have hoped that I would bring home a bride after I departed. Perhaps that is why it is not finished.” He kissed her temple. “You should take it, for yourself. The color would suit you well.”

  Annelise bit her lip, sensing that his conclusion was incorrect. He took her silence for shyness and touched his lips to hers. “Truly, you must take it,” he whispered, then stepped away. His gaze searched hers. “I do not wish to argue, Annelise.”

  She smiled up at him. “Then you have only to agree with me.”

  He did not smile, but lit a lantern and unsheathed his knife. “Bolt the door behind me.”