Ethel and I were breathless when we reined up at the riverbank. All around me, the Highlands looked like another world. In the daytime, the moors and mountains seemed like a fairyland untouched by time. Now the river had transformed into a brilliant ribbon of light, every leaf of heather and gorse frosted in a million shades of glorious silver, like a child’s dream.
The rush of the river. The perfume of heather. The mist that swirled up from the ground. It all matched how I felt. Ghost-like. Insubstantial. One foot in each time, but belonging to neither.
I picked my way to the exact spot where I’d first tumbled down the bank and, closing my eyes, wished I had it to do all over again. This time, I’d tell him I knew his face. I’d make him tell me everything. I’d beg him to stay with us. And if he refused, I’d drag him back to the manor if I had to. Anything to keep him safe. To keep him here.
“Ridiculous,” I muttered, cursing under my breath.
“Really, Hope.” The voice echoed weirdly in the fog. “Such language.”
Heart leaping into my throat, I spun in a circle, trying to locate the source. As if I’d conjured him from the mist, Bran Cameron stepped over the edge of the riverbank, leading his horse.
“Hello,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
I wondered briefly if I was dreaming. But the smells and sounds and feel of the moist fog against my skin were too real. Bran led his roan to nuzzle against Ethel and moved toward me, leaving a few feet of space between us.
“I had to see you,” he said simply.
When he reached out a hand, I stiffened, and he let it drop. He’d made his choice. And though I understood his reasons, even admired them, it didn’t change how much it hurt.
“My mother’s agreed to leave Tony in school for now.”
“That’s good.” I choked back the excruciating ache. “I mean, I’m glad he’s safe. But I don’t understand. Why would Celia agree to take you back, when she knows you betrayed her?”
I had to look away from the cocky half grin. That crooked incisor. “She didn’t have much choice, really,” he said. “Before I left, I hid all her Tesla research.” He winked. “A little insurance policy.”
Awkward seconds passed while we stared at each other. He was so close, I could see the condensation from the mist pearling on his cheeks. Yet he might as well have been on the moon. I looked away and began to move toward Ethel.
“Well,” I said, “good luck with that.”
Before I could take another step, Bran grabbed me, eyes like a starving man’s as they roamed my face. “When you rode into my village on the front of your grandfather’s horse,” he said, “you were the brightest, most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Like a duchess, with your silks and your little doll.” His fingers tightened on my arms. “No matter what happens, don’t ever forget that.”
I ripped away, fighting back sobs that slashed at the inside of my chest like shards of broken glass. “Then leave her,” I cried. “Lucinda could protect your brother somehow. I know it. She’s got a lot of influence, and . . .”
Still gibbering like a maniac, I let him pull me to him. Beneath the snug T-shirt, I could feel the bandage wrapped around his slim waist.
I breathed in, wishing I never had to exhale, that I could keep Bran’s scent in my lungs forever. My fingers played up the ridge of his spine, memorizing the flex of each muscle, and how the fine hairs on the back of his neck stiffened when my lips grazed his earlobe.
If this was all I ever got of Bran Cameron, I would sear every nuance into my mind. I had a photographic memory, perfect recall for books and maps and arcane knowledge no one had ever cared about. But I was terrified I’d forget how he felt against me.
He murmured into my hair. “I can’t take that chance, Hope. But I will never let her hurt any of you again.” He pulled back to look down at me. “I’ll do everything I can to ensure my mother never gets her hands on the Nonius Stone.” His eyes shuttered. “I’ve agreed to feed information to the Viators. It’s all arranged.”
Lucinda. That’s how she knew he’d be here tonight.
“No.” My fists bunched in his shirt. “Bran, if your mom finds out you’re helping us, she’ll kill you. You know that.”
He planted a kiss on the end of my nose and stepped back. “Then I shall have to be very clever, won’t I?”
He gave that Bran Cameron smirk and walked over to withdraw something from his saddlebag.
Grinning, he returned with a bulky object wrapped in a scrap of aged fabric. He placed it in my open palm and backed up, worrying at the silver medallion at his neck. The only thing left from a life that was taken from him. Robbed, because of me.
“What’s this?”
“Just open it.”
The silky material fell open at my touch. All the air left my lungs as I reached out a trembling finger to touch her hair, the delicate silk of her faded gown.