Arran woke in the middle of the night, his heart beating quickly, panicked and filled with a sense of dread. He rose, drenched in sweat and paced around the room to try and calm his breathing.
He couldn’t understand what would have caused him to feel this way. He was a sound sleeper, and he’d not been having nightmares. Just the opposite, actually, Blaire had come to him in his dreams as she did most nights. He delighted in the time he spent there holding her in his arms, claiming her over and over with his body. No matter how unreal or fleeting those moments were each night, he clung to them wishing each day away so that nighttime would come, and he could be with the woman he loved once more.
But tonight his dreams were interrupted. He could not shake the feeling that something was very terribly wrong. He dressed quickly, slowly opening the door to his bedchamber so that he could listen for any sign of trouble that might be brewing below stairs.
The castle was silent, dark, save for a few candles still burning. Reaching for the candle closest to him, he hesitantly made his way out into the hall. He knew not why he was headed in this direction, but every step forward brought him closer to Edana’s bedchamber.
The lass should have been asleep long before now, and he knew he should not disturb her without reason, but something deep inside him lurched with fear as he stood before her door. He pressed his ear hard against the outside of the door hoping to hear her breathing or moving about.
When he heard nothing, he breathed deeply and quietly pushed open the door. He looked first not at the bed, but at the candles, still lit, scattered throughout the room. It was unlike her to leave them burning after she’d gone to bed. Perhaps she still had not returned to the castle. He knew he’d angered her greatly in the dining hall.
Slightly relieved, he stepped all the way inside and had to swallow hard to choke down the bile that rose in the back of this throat.
Her head lay oddly back against the pillow with the rest of her upper half propped up as if she were sitting. Her eyes were wide open and lifeless. Her legs were spread awkwardly open. It was then Arran noticed the blood slowly dripping off the end of the bed and the coverings drenched in her blood.
He screamed a deep, animalistic groan as the gruesome sight brought him to his knees in the doorway. He knew not how long he sat there, but eventually the castle began to stir. He was pulled to his feet by two servants but quickly jerked away from them as he fled the room and burst outside the castle doors.
With his first deep breath of the cool night air, he vomited as sobs overtook him. He knew it was his fault. The lass hadn’t lied to him about the baby, and his screams and horrible accusations had caused her to lose the child and ultimately her own life as well.
How soon after he’d gone to bed had Edana fallen ill and begun to bleed all alone in her bedchamber? How long had she suffered before dying? The questions that tormented him made him ill. No one, not even Edana, deserved to die such a death, all alone with no one to come and provide aide to her or answer her cries for help.
She must’ve screamed. How could one not when going through pain such as that which was so clearly etched forever on her face? If only he’d drunk less during their last meal together, perhaps he wouldn’t have been sleeping so deeply not to hear her cries.
Arran knew he was not a good man. Not like his brother, not like his father. He’d battled demons of guilt and remorse for past decisions for much of his adult life, but nothing compared to this transgression for which he would now have to hold himself accountable.
He’d killed her. Whether it was by his own hand or not, he knew he would feel responsible for the lass’ death and for the death of his unborn child for the rest of his life. Rising, he straightened himself, roughly brushing away his tears. The least he could do for her now was to see her properly laid to rest and beg God for forgiveness for all that he’d done.
Making his way back inside the castle, he began giving orders, stopping the castle’s messenger as he passed him on the stairwell. “Ride for Conall Castle at once, lad. Speak only to me brother, Eoin, and let him know of what has passed here this night. He will wish to be here as we lay her to rest.”
*
Tormod watched from his hiding place just on the edge of the castle gates. He’d left shortly after Edana, silently following behind her so that he could keep tight watch on the castle so he would know the instant his plan had succeeded.
It had taken longer than he’d expected. Eventually, he’d drifted as he crouched low to the ground, out of sight from anyone who would pass by him. Late into the night a cold breeze stirred him, and he looked up to see the castle slowly fill with light. He suspected then that someone had found Edana’s dead body.