Down the Rabbit Hole

She watched the uneven rise and fall of his chest, and knew that he was struggling to remain with her. But his life was slowly fading.

Though it pained her, she knew she needed to be completely truthful with him before death claimed him. “I need to tell you something. I hope you won’t hate me when you hear this. I came here to persuade you, by any means I could, to sell your ancestral lands. I was told to do whatever necessary, to beg, buy, or steal. I even planned on enlisting the help of Ian and Edwina in order to trick you into selling.”

“Is that why you made love with me?”

She felt the quick rush of tears and wiped furiously at them. “Of course not. What we shared was honest. And beautiful. And now that I understand what all this means to you, the price you paid to keep it, I would never make such an offer. I know now that this is, as you said, hallowed ground, and must remain in your possession for generations to come.”

“Then love has truly transformed us both.” A sad, haunted smile touched the corner of his mouth and, though it cost him, he drew her close and brushed a kiss to her lips. “You never said the words. Do you truly love me?”

“With all my heart.” A sob caught in her throat. “I wish I had told you sooner. But please know how much I love you, Colin.”

“I can die in peace now, my love.”

“No! Oh, Colin, no.”

“Though the curse must be fulfilled, I will never leave you. Believe that.”

She felt him take a small breath. His hand went slack. His handsome face looked deceptively peaceful, as though he were merely at rest.

She couldn’t contain her overwhelming grief. Great, wrenching sobs were torn from her throat. And as she gathered him into her arms, she wept until there were no tears left.





CHAPTER TEN




Beside the little chapel in the garden, Beth stood to one side as the villagers paused at the fresh mound of earth to whisper a prayer or drop a rose petal onto the moist soil.

The chapel had been abuzz with the murder of young Hamish Campbell, and the rumor that Ian and Edwina, running from the scene, had been caught up in the churning, swollen waters of a stream and had both perished. As yet, their bodies had not been recovered.

It mattered not to Beth. Colin was dead, and whatever the fate of his stepsiblings, it wouldn’t bring him back to her.

When all the villagers had left, it was time for the staff of Stag’s Head Lodge to pay their final respects. Old Maura leaned heavily on the arm of the young serving lass, Glenna, tears streaming down both their faces. Mistress MacKay knelt to place a bowl of the laird’s favorite bread pudding on the grave. Poor Jamie could hardly contain the grief that had him rubbing at his eyes and turning away.

And then, finally, as the sun began to set and dusk settled over the land, Beth was alone. She dropped to her knees and allowed the tears to flow. Great choking sobs were torn from her throat as she knelt beside the grave, wishing with all her heart that she could join her love.

“How cruel of the Fates to give me a taste of true love, and then demand that I go on living alone,” she whispered.

She was so caught up in grief, she could barely recall the events of the day. It had been Jamie who had found her, lying beside the laird on Stag’s Head Peak, her arms locked around his still body, her face buried in his neck. The lad had to pry her arms free. Wrapping her in a dry woolen cloak, he’d helped her up to the saddle of his mount before draping the laird’s body across the back of his favorite stallion.

Taking up the reins of the laird’s horse, the lad pulled himself up behind Beth and was forced to hold tightly to her or she would have surely fallen, she was so limp and weakened by her grief and pain.