Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
A light pattering of rain dotted the windscreen, obstructing Mason’s view as he drove to Carwood Manor, so he turned on the wipers.
Rowen’s conversation with her mother had lasted over forty minutes, but he didn’t begrudge her that time.
He wished he could have another forty minutes with his parents.
He hadn’t eavesdropped on her call. His mind had been too preoccupied with Skye.
It was difficult for him to put into words what he felt being on the isle.
Its wild beauty and untamed spirit took a back seat to the transcendent power that seemed to be everywhere he turned.
Being here, experiencing it for himself, made him begin to understand why the Skye Druids were so protective of their home.
He also understood why those forced to leave were consumed with such hatred that it passed down through the generations.
Mason had only been on Skye for a few hours, but already, he couldn’t imagine leaving the isle behind.
It would feel akin to removing a limb when he did.
Was it his ancestral roots? Was it the magic? Was it something else entirely?
One could argue that he should’ve been contemplating his upcoming meeting with Rhona and the others, but he wasn’t. He had nothing to hide. If they chose not to believe him, then so be it. He would leave, but only after he made sure Rowen got home—even if he had to take her there himself.
Which, now that he thought about it, he probably should. It would give him a chance to get to know some American Druids while ensuring that London didn’t get their hands on Rowen.
“I don’t think I have words to describe this place,” she murmured, her face nearly pressed against the glass of the passenger window as she gazed out.
Mason glanced over to see the reverence brightening her face. “Rugged and stunning just doesn’t cut it.”
“Not in the least. How could I possibly explain how seeing this land touches my soul and makes me whole?” she whispered. “It’s like…”
“You’re home.”
Her head swung to him. “Exactly. Like I was missing a place I didn’t even know existed.” She returned her attention to the landscape. “Every Druid should make a pilgrimage to Skye.”
“Everyone around the globe feels some form of pull to the island. Most don’t even realize what’s calling to them. Others hear it loud and clear.”
“Did you ever hear it?” she asked without looking at him.
Mason slowed as he came upon a car that had stopped to turn. “Skye was always forbidden. If I heard it, I ignored it.”
Rowen sat back to look at him. “You sound troubled by that.”
“I am. More with every minute I’m here. I’m upset that so many Druids listen to others spewing hateful rhetoric that only serves their interests. It’s been like that for eons, and it’ll continue.”
“Unless you do something.”
He snorted and glanced at her. “Me?”
“Why not you?”
“I’m one man.”
She twisted her lips and shrugged. “Everything starts with one person.”
“I’d like nothing more than to rid the organization of Thomas and everyone who follows him, but there’s no way we’d get them all out.
The seeds of loathing that were planted by our ancestors are too big and unwieldy to contain now.
The hatred will continue to fester. It won’t matter how many times we cut it down or try to yank it out, it won’t go away. ”
“Then what’s the solution? Start a new group?”
Mason sighed. “I don’t know if there is a solution.”
“Change is hard, no matter what it is. If you take on that battle, it’s going to be an uphill climb. But I think it needs to be done.”
“They murdered my parents. They’ll come for me.”
She pointed to the road they were supposed to turn onto. “Right here. And what makes you think you’ll be alone?”
“Few will stand against the power of London.”
“I’ll stand with you.”
Her statement was such a surprise that he jerked his head to her, only remembering at the last minute that he was driving and returned his attention to the road. “This isn’t your fight.”
“It became mine when they invited me here.”
“I doubt your mum will feel the same.”
Rowen laughed. “You’d be wrong. She asked if we wanted her and a few of my other family members to make the trip to help us.”
Us. She bloody well meant it. Mason was excited that she was staying, but on the heels of that came the anxiety that something might happen to her.
“Don’t,” she warned. “I see that frown you always get when you’ve thought of something that upsets you. I can take care of myself.”
“You don’t know these Druids.”
Rowen shrugged. “And they don’t know me.”
Mason was coming up with an argument when he saw the drive and turned down it.
He peered through the trees and was rewarded with a glimpse of the weathered stone walls of a manor house, streaked with moss and time.
The slate roof glinted dully, and chimneys jutted like sentinels against the brooding sky.
It stood quiet and enduring. A house that had seen generations come and go and yet remained as steadfast as the isle itself.
The tires rolled onto gravel as he pulled in next to a black Range Rover.
“Holy shit,” Rowen murmured, her voice soft with awe as she stared out the windscreen. “Look at this place.”
He grinned, wondering what her reaction would be to the Crawford Estate. She had no idea he was an earl. He hadn’t told her. Not because he was trying to keep it a secret, but because there had been other things to deal with. Now, it seemed almost vulgar to tell her.
She hurried out of the car, uncaring about the drizzle, her wide eyes sweeping across every stone. “How old is this place? I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels ancient yet young at the same time.”
Mason came around the vehicle to stand next to her. “We’ll ask when we get inside.”
“Okay.”
Except Rowen didn’t head toward the door.
She walked across the drive to a copse of trees where some wildflowers bloomed.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
He was as taken by her in that instant as he had been when he saw her on the side of the road.
She was stubborn, unwavering, and stalwart.
She was also kind, generous, and compassionate.
She knew her worth, and she didn’t let anyone get in her way.
If he knew nothing else about her, he would still be impressed.
But he did know more. Rowen possessed a rare kind of magic that had nothing to do with spells.
There was a quiet brilliance about her. A light that outshone everything else.
She moved through the world with wonder in her eyes, seeing things others couldn’t.
Maybe it was the way she heard the plants, or perhaps it was just her soul.
Whatever it was, he felt it every time he was near her.
And the more time he spent with her, the harder it became to imagine walking away.
She squatted beside a flower and leaned close to smell it, her touch upon the petal gentle.
Then, she stroked her hand down the stem as if petting it.
She straightened and wandered through the trees and the other flower beds, lost in her own world.
And damn if it wasn’t one he wished to be a part of.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, simply watching her, before he became aware of someone beside him.
Mason looked to his right and spotted Carlyle.
The sight of his oldest friend sent a wave of emotion rocketing through him.
He was about to embrace him when he recalled the last time they had met.
Carlyle’s turquoise eyes were hard as they regarded him, and rain dampened his wavy auburn hair. He glanced toward Rowen. “So, she’s the one who saved your life?”
“Yeah. Helped me to the car and drove with the London Druids chasing us.”
“Ferne says she did more than that.”
Mason swung his gaze to Rowen. He’d been in a lot of pain that night, but he had been ultra vigilant about everything, including noticing how calm she remained through it all. “I owe her everything.”
“The rain is about to unleash on us. You should get her inside.”
“Wait,” Mason called as Carlyle started to turn. His friend paused and then slowly swiveled his head to him. “I’m sorry for what happened between us recently. It was all an act done to keep those I cared about out of harm’s way.”
For a long time, Carlyle didn’t react. Finally, he said, “If you could have trusted anyone, it was me and Ferne. You chose to go it alone.”
“For good reason.”
Carlyle walked away, and Mason couldn’t shake the feeling that he had damaged the relationships that meant the most to him beyond repair. It hurt deeply, but if it meant they lived, then it was worth it. Mason looked toward Rowen to find her scrutinizing him.
She made her way over. “Who was that?”
“Carlyle.”
She shot a quick look at his friend’s retreating back. “He upset you.”
“My decision to undertake things on my own has hurt others, and that upsets me.”
“If they care about you, they’ll understand.”
He put a hand on her back and guided her toward the front door. “I hope so.”
“If they don’t, then it’s their loss.”
Rowen’s words softened the ache in his chest. It was like having his own personal support section, and it felt good to have her by his side. “You don’t know me or what I’ve done.”
She twisted her lips. “I did a bit of snooping in the storage unit when you were unconscious. That, plus what you’ve told me, paints a pretty good picture.”
“You didn’t find much there.” He knew that for certain.
“Then tell me what I’m missing,” she stated, pausing as they reached the open door.
He liked how the water droplets clung to the strands of her hair, begging him to touch it. So, he did. He would spill every secret he had if she asked. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“I want to know everything.”
Bloody hell, she was beautiful. He wanted to count the freckles across her nose. More than that, he wanted to pull her against him and feel her softness alongside his body again. “Then you’ll know it all. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
“I think coming to Skye is payment enough. But I want you to tell me who you are because you wish to share it, not as payment for something.”
She didn’t understand that he had already bared himself to her. He hadn’t understood it until that moment, but it didn’t alarm him. With her, he had nothing to hide.
Mason found himself sinking into the blue of her eyes, the paleness tempting him to come closer, as if reaching for his soul. Fate had delivered her to him, and the more he got to know her, the more he liked.
Wanted.
Craved.