Down the Rabbit Hole

There was darkness in that young man’s soul. He’d seemed, in that moment, the personification of evil.

Beth’s hands were cold as she stepped into her room. She nearly groaned aloud at the number of people milling about. Old Maura was giving orders to the serving girls as they filled a round tub with steaming water and set folded linens to one side. The bed was piled high with brightly colored gowns and shawls and delicate underpinnings. Another servant stood beside a dressing table, where she would prepare the lady’s hair for the evening’s festivities.

As Beth allowed them to attend to her needs, she forced herself to smile and nod and pretend that all was fine. But her heart was heavy with the thought that at this very moment Colin could be facing great peril.

She was desperate to finish this charade and go to him. She needed to get him alone, so that she could share with him all the terrible secrets that were whirling around her mind, giving her such distress.

All she could see was the evil in Ian’s eyes.

All she could hear were his hateful words, hurled like arrows straight to the laird’s heart.


*

Colin paced the garden path like a caged beast.

Though he’d seen evidence of Darda Campbell’s evil magic before, this was the first time he’d witnessed just how deeply, how completely, she’d managed to control her children. Even in death, she continued to wield power over their minds and wills.

It was clear now that Ian had turned his back on all that was good and decent, and had somehow descended into a hell of hatred. And the choices he made going forward would affect not only him but everyone around him.

It pained Colin to acknowledge his father’s folly. How easily the old laird had been manipulated by a woman’s youth and beauty. When Darda was thwarted in her effort to control her new husband’s estate, she had put a curse on him and on his only son.

At the time, Colin had scoffed at her attempt to manipulate him. And yet, the first half of the curse had already come to fruition, and it appeared that the rest of Darda Campbell’s curse would prevail.

That knowledge made this night all the more important. Though he could not remove the curse, he could leave behind a legacy of his own heart. He would reward the friendship of his guests. And if the Fates were willing, he would taste the wine of true love before going into his final battle.





CHAPTER SEVEN




Old Maura stood back, admiring the work of the village lasses who’d been pressed into service.

“Ye look lovely, my lady. I’ve no doubt Lady Catherine would approve the use of her gown.”

Beth ran a hand down the jewel-encrusted bodice. “I’ve never worn anything this fine, Maura. I feel like a princess in a fairy tale.”

“I know not this tale of which ye speak, my lady. But ye surely look as fine as any lady who has ever graced Stag’s Head Lodge.”

“And all thanks to you and your helpers.”

The old woman blushed while the serving girls smiled their appreciation at her words. It was apparent that none of them were accustomed to being thanked for the work they did for their visitors.

They all looked up at the knock on the door. Maura hurried over to admit the laird.

Colin paused in the open doorway. And though the room was filled with servants milling about, he had eyes only for the lovely young woman standing in front of the fireplace.

“You are a vision, my lady.”

Beth smiled. “None of this could happen without Maura and these amazing women.” She touched a hand to the jeweled gown. “I’m told this was your dear mother’s. And look what they’ve done with my hair. It was all wind-tossed until they managed to tame it.”

His eyes twinkled with laughter. “And will you give them credit for that lithe young body and beautiful face, as well?”

That had all of them laughing.