Chapter 25
Once the healer had Brandon under his care once more, feeding him herbal brews and medicines to ease his pain, Heather ran from the room.
The heat of the fireplace and the sting of Brandon’s revelations were more than she could bear.
After all, she had known that her peaceful existence with Owen was too easy to last.
Footsteps echoed down the hall behind her, and it was not long before Owen caught up. He grabbed her gently by the hand, spinning her around to face him.
“Where are ye goin’, love?” he asked somberly. “I ken ye’re strugglin’, but ye cannae go anywhere. If yer faither is marchin’ here, then we must put ye and Edith somewhere safe.”
Heather shook her head. “I will not allow that wretch to frighten me. He can march all he likes; I do not care. I will face him myself, and I will let him know just how much I despise him!”
Her heart burned with anger and sorrow. No matter what a child did, there was no excuse for murder. William had not betrayed anyone or shamed anyone or hurt anyone. He had fallen in love! He had been happy, and their father had killed him for it, as well as breaking Edith’s heart.
“Love, ye cannae go out to face him,” Owen urged. “It’s too dangerous and ye ken what he’s capable of. I wouldn’ae have him hurt ye, as he hurt yer brother.”
Heather held her nerve. “You do not understand, my love. If you could hear my thoughts and feel the rage within me, you would not try to stop me from punishing that bastard.” She swallowed the acid in her throat.
“He killed my brother. I do not care if it was an accidental death, or an “education” gone awry. My brother is dead, either way. Not only that, but he tried to have you killed for it.”
“Let me take ye back to yer chamber. We can discuss it when I’ve rallied me men and set everyone to their positions.” She saw the agitation in his handsome face, for he was the one who would have to protect his castle from her father’s forces.
She expelled a harsh breath. “I will go to Edith, instead.”
“As ye prefer, love, but the two of ye must stay where ye are until we ken how we’re goin’ to proceed,” he told her, and she offered a nod of assent.
As angry as she was, she did not want to put her beloved in danger, and if she were to run out of the castle to face her father, that certainly would put Owen in a risky position.
He interlaced his fingers with hers and walked her back through the maze of hallways and staircases, until they came to Edith’s chambers.
Soft singing could be heard from within, so sweet and almost cheerful that Heather felt a tug upon her heart.
She did not want to shatter the poor woman’s heart all over again, but the truth needed to be spoken.
“I will return for ye,” Owen said, dipping his head to kiss her. A lingering, slow kiss that served as a reminder of what she stood to lose if she acted rashly.
A few minutes later, Owen broke away and, with an encouraging smile, he headed down the nearest staircase and vanished from sight. All that remained was for Heather to inform Edith of the truth. Something she was not looking forward to.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the chamber door.
“Come in!” called Edith.
The moment Heather stepped into the room, struck by the thick heat of the raging fireplace, Edith seemed to understand that something had changed. Her face fell and her eyes squinted, while her mouth set in a grim line.
“He discovered the culprit, did he nae?” she said, without hesitation.
Heather blinked in surprise. “Pardon?”
“Brandon. He kens who did it, does he nae? I saw him ride in. He didnae look too good, lollin’ half out of the saddle,” Edith explained, beckoning for Heather to come and sit on the edge of the bed. “He wouldn’ae be back in such a state if he hadnae discovered somethin’.”
With a weary sigh, Heather nodded, and began to relay everything she had just heard in the healer’s chambers.
It was not an easy explanation to make, and she sensed the tension building within Edith after every blow of truth landed.
After all, the grief-stricken woman had only just found out her husband was dead. This just seemed cruel.
“My father’s men are coming here, right now. We are to stay here and await Owen’s instruction,” Heather concluded, braced for any reaction that Edith might have. However, she was not anticipating the eerie calm that followed.
“I didnae want to believe it,” Edith murmured, staring blankly ahead at the flickering flames. “I suspected it, but… I didnae want to think ill of that man. I thought he might want me dead, which was why he asked to “meet” with me, but what faither is despicable enough to kill his own son?”
Heather nodded. “I am struggling with that same question.”
“I am sorrier still for yer beloved,” Edith added. “I’d bet all the coin I have that yer faither is marchin’ here under the pretense that his daughter was kidnapped by a barbarian, and has been forced into a marriage, against her will.”
Heather’s eyes widened in alarm. “Pardon?”
“He’s a schemin’ wretch, Heather. Do ye nae think he’ll use yer letter to his advantage?
He’ll have summoned his bannermen with that letter.
There’ll be more than just his men marchin’ here, ye mark me words,” Edith explained, with that same tone of flat, unnerving calm.
“Ye inadvertently gave him “proof” that he didnae have before.”
Dread sank like a rock in Heather’s stomach, as she realized the possibility in Edith’s words.
Of course, her father would use the letter to get what he wanted—namely, his wayward daughter, back under his control.
He had proven himself to be a master of opportunity, and she had just given him one that he would never be able to resist.
“What can I do?” Heather whispered, trembling in fear.
Edith smiled stiffly and put an arm around Heather’s shoulders.
“There’s nothin’ ye can do, Sister. It’s too late.
Yer faither will be here by nightfall, I imagine, when he’ll strike against yer beloved.
If the castle falls, he’ll take me, he’ll take ye, and he’ll nae hesitate to execute yer beloved.
Me death will likely follow soon after, while ye…
I daenae ken what he’ll do with ye, but it willnae be pleasant. ”
“How can you be so calm?” Heather’s heart threatened to explode from her chest; it was beating too fast.
Edith shrugged. “I daenae have anythin’ to fear, I suppose. Yer faither already took almost everythin’ from me. Besides, I have notions of what I’ll do if he reaches me.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiled sadly. “As I say, I have nothin’ to fear.
” She stood up and urged Heather to stand, before ushering her toward the door.
“Now, ye best gather yer belongings, if we’re to be moved to safer quarters.
I imagine yer beloved will put us deep below the castle, so we daenae get caught by any projectiles. ”
“Can I not stay with you awhile?”
Edith patted Heather lightly on the back. “Nay, Sister. I need a moment to meself, to gather me thoughts. Ye’ve told me a great deal this day, on top of a great deal of other misery. I would see to me grief by meself, but we’ll see one another again soon, when Owen gives his instruction.”
Realizing that her sister-in-law was merely pretending to hold herself together, and likely needed time and space to weep as freely as she pleased, Heather pulled the woman into a tight embrace.
“You have me, now. I know it is not the same, but please understand that you will never be alone. You are my sister, and you are cherished,” she told Edith, hugging her close.
Edith hugged her back. “As are ye, Sister. I’m glad to have found ye, and I only hope that we will have more time to get to ken one another. If there is any way, ye will nae suffer as I have done.”
Holding one another for a few minutes more, Edith finally broke away and nudged Heather through the open door of the chamber. Sharing a heartfelt farewell, Heather made her way up to her own chamber, where she would have to decide what to take down into the castle’s underbelly with her.
Left alone, and driven half-mad by her own unrelenting thoughts, evening had fallen by the time Heather began to wonder if something was wrong. Owen had not yet returned for her, and the world seemed unnaturally silent beyond her chamber window.
Curious, she approached the pane and looked out upon the glittering loch. There, in the dying light, she saw a figure moving furtively around the curve of the pebbled shore.
A gasp escaped her throat. “Edith… no!”
In that moment, she realized how foolish she had been. Of course, Edith would not sit idly by while her husband’s killer marched toward the castle. After all, she had threatened to kill her husband’s murderer with her bare hands. Perhaps, she still planned to do just that.
“If there is any way, ye will nae suffer as I have done,” Edith’s words came back to Heather, with much darker, more dreadful connotations. How could she have missed the tone of revenge in her sister-in-law’s voice?
Without hesitation, Heather flew from the room, sprinting down staircases and hallways as fast as her legs would carry her.
Not once did she think about pausing to find Owen, and inform him of what had happened, for she could think of only Edith.
The woman had to be stopped before she did something irrevocable.
So, she raced onward, cutting through the elegant gardens and passing by the woodland that flanked the loch.
She stumbled a little as she reached the pebbled shore and struggled around the outcrop of wall that kept the castle safe.
The water was colder and deeper than she had expected, forcing her to swim—or, rather, flail—until she reached solid ground again.
Nevertheless, she pressed on, hoisting up her wet skirts as she chased after the sister she had only just begun to know.
I will not lose anyone else to that bastard of a father. I will not, she vowed, keeping Edith’s distant shadow in her line of sight as she ran. It was the least she could do for the brother she had not been able to protect.