Chapter 28
There was a singular moment before the chaos arrived in which Alaric forgot his troubles and the reason he had ridden to the caves to find Miss Kavanagh. A singular moment, lasting less than a second, when his true feelings were laid bare in a way that he did not expect but should have seen coming.
It was as he pulled his horse up at the edge of the cliffs. There, he peered over the drop, only to find Miss Kavanagh climbing up the face of that rocky surface.
Their eyes met briefly, and Alaric was sure he saw a smile touch her lips. Miss Kavanagh was soaked to the bone; she looked frightened and alone, as if nothing might save her, nor did she expect it to. But then she saw him …
That smile seemed to dismiss her fear, just as it put to rest her uncertainty. As their eyes met, Alaric saw clearly the relief that she felt at his being there, and it was as if she knew without having to question it that whatever might happen, he would save her, and that she was not alone.
He felt it in his chest. He felt it piercing his heart. He felt it smash to pieces the questions he asked, the accusations he had, and the anger that fueled him. For that brief second, all Alaric cared about was Miss Kavanagh, and that she was safe.
Then she fell, and the moment broke.
His eyes widened, and he let out a cry as Miss Kavanagh tumbled backwards and into the deep waters below. He heard her scream, but it cut short as the lake consumed her and dragged her into its watery depths.
“No!”
Alaric did not think. He did not care. That which fueled his actions was the same that had drawn him to Miss Kavanagh from the moment they met.
It was a pull that wrapped itself around him, an energy that consumed his being, a sense that he needed to be with her …
to save her. That if he failed, the world might as well end because it would not be one worth living in.
“Nessa!” Morag was beside him.
Alaric acted quickly. Down from his horse, he strode to the edge of the cliff. The fall was twenty feet, and the water below crashed heavily into the base of the cliffs; worse than that, jagged rocks cut through it like gnashing teeth, seeming to mock him while daring him to do the unthinkable.
It is a good thing then that Alaric did not think.
His mind was fixed firmly on Miss Kavanagh, and he leaped from the cliff as if he could fly. For a brief second, his body suspended in mid-air, the sun shining on his face, the wind carrying him like a zephyr sent from the heavens. And then he fell.
The coolness of the water swallowed him as he plunged through it like a spear. It rushed up his nose, it blinded his eyes, it caught him in its grip and tossed him about as if he weighed nothing.
But Alaric kicked furiously and with vengeance until he broke the surface. He took a deep breath, spun about in search, and then dove back into the abyss.
The water raged around him, but Alaric hardly felt its wrath. He forced his eyes open as he kicked to where he had seen Miss Kavanagh fall, and despite the darkness, despite the fear that suffocated him, Alaric held his breath and kicked and swam and searched …
He found her body sinking to the bottom of the lake.
She was out cold, her red hair drifting behind her as if caught in the wind. And while he might have imagined it, Alaric could have sworn he saw a smile on her face.
Quickly, Alaric swam to her. Then, he wrapped his arms around her body and kicked with all his might toward the surface. Seconds passed … his lungs burned … his limbs grew weak … but he breached the surface, the sun kissed his face, and he gulped in a deep breath that was, indeed, life itself.
“Miss Kavanagh!” Alaric roared as he pulled her limp body to himself. “Hold on!”
The water was chaos and destruction. It surged toward the rocks and the cliff as if it had a vendetta against Alaric. He eyed the cave, but its entrance had been swallowed by the tide. He turned and found where the cliff descended to the shore, but that was well over two hundred feet away.
As for climbing back up the cliff? Alaric’s limbs were so weak that even if he were not carrying Miss Kavanagh, he doubted that he had the strength.
“Alaric!” The call rose above the crashing waters. “Alaric! Behind you!”
It was Crispin. He steered a small boat toward them, navigating it expertly through the choppy waters.
Alaric clung to Miss Kavanagh as Crispin steered it closer, and he latched onto its hull as soon as it was within reach. Crispin leaned over the edge, his hands under Miss Kavanagh’s armpits, and he hurled her to safety with a mighty roar.
Alaric was next. As Crispin laid Miss Kavanagh down, Alaric pulled himself onto the boat and collapsed on his knees beside Miss Kavanagh.
“Are you mad!” Crispin cried. “You could have been killed!”
Alaric ignored him as he hastily checked Miss Kavanagh. Her eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell softly. She was alive.
“Miss Kavanagh …” Alaric rested her head on his knees and gently pressed on her chest. “Please … please …”
He had never felt such fear! Whatever Miss Kavanagh was, whatever she had done, the thought of losing her was too much to bear. Alaric had felt heartache once in his life; he had already lost someone he cared for, and he would not lose another.
“No … no …” He continued to press on her chest as he pried open her mouth. “Breathe! Please, you must –”
Miss Kavanagh lurched, water sprayed from her mouth, and her eyes shot open as she bent over and started to hack, cough, and heave.
“Oh, thank God!!” Alaric crouched beside her as she fell to her knees. She breathed painfully, still spitting up water, and he rubbed her back and held back her hair. “I thought … I thought …”
“It is a good thing I was here,” Crispin said as he shook his head and fell onto his butt. “Lest you both be taken by the lake.”
Alaric snapped his head up and fury found his gaze. “What is the meaning of this, cousin!” he accused. “You saved us, yes. But what are you doing here – why did you run?”
Crispin scoffed. “Is now the time?”
Miss Kavanagh’s body trembled as she caught her breath. She needed solid ground. She needed to be tended to and cared after. But now that she was alive, those same questions roared back to life in Alaric’s head, and he needed answers.
“Perhaps it is not,” Alaric sighed, keeping a hand on Miss Kavanagh’s back as if to support her. “But I must know the truth of it.”
“Miss Kavanagh?” Crispin looked to the half-drowned woman. “Shall I?”
Miss Kavanagh forced her gaze up, and there was fear in her eyes, as well as regret. She trembled. She gasped. But she bowed her head, the strength left her, and she managed to utter the single word … “Yes.”
“Very well,” Crispin said with a deep sigh. “This cave is one that your wife and I used to visit when I was teaching her how to sail. And in this cave, as it is so well hidden, I have stored a series of letters that she wrote to her father.”
“Her father?” Alaric blinked. “She did not know her father. At least not personally.”
“She wished that she did,” Crispin said. “Alas, he had no desire to know her, and her letters were returned after many years. But when he sent them back, he attached a letter of his own …” Crispin reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a piece of parchment.
“What is that?”
“Read it for yourself?” Crispin handed Alaric the letter.
Alaric took the letter with trembling, wet hands.
Careful not to smudge the ink, he read the script carefully, and with each sentence revealed, Alaric felt answers tumble into place.
Many raised more questions; he still did not understand it all, but he knew one thing to be true: he was wrong about Miss Kavanagh.
Worse still: He did not know her at all.
His gaze landed on her, and she was so shamed with guilt that she could not look at him.
“This … is it true?” he asked her.
“Oh, it is true,” Crispin said. “Verity seems to think that Miss Kavanagh is a witch, that she is here to cast spells on you and make you her own.” He scoffed. “Typically, the truth is nowhere near that exciting.”
As Crispin spoke, Miss Kavanagh continued to look away. She no longer heaved and coughed, but she trembled from the cold, and the shame both.
“It seems to me that Miss Kavanagh is an opportunist. She knew of her heritage, and she came here to try and claim it. She has been lying to us all, Alaric. Not nearly as bad as witchcraft, but a sin of its own making.”
Alaric sat speechless as his world shattered and his reality crumbled.
How is this possible … the lies … the deception … the false emotions that were used to trick me.
That was what hurt him the most. He looked at Miss Kavanagh, and without having to ask, he knew that what Crispin said was the truth. She had come into his home, knowing who she was, and purposefully grew close so that she might use her heritage against him.
She had lied. She had betrayed him. Worse than that, she had broken the trust that he held so dear. Nothing about her was real, which meant that what Alaric felt … it has all been a lie.
“You knew too?” He looked accusingly at Crispin. “All this time?”
“No,” Crispin said. “Your wife showed me this letter long ago, but I did not put it together until recently. Then, when I read the letter again and saw that name.” He shrugged. “I figured it out.”
“Miss Kavanagh?” Alaric growled. “What do you have to say?”
“I am so sorry …” Her voice was whisper-quiet. “I did not … it is not that … I am sorry.”
He felt it in his chest. He felt it in his soul. Alaric had dared to trust another, to open himself, to believe that he had found someone in this cruel world who understood him.
Then there was that near kiss. It was but a moment in time, yet it had shouted his true feelings so that even Alaric could not deny them. And where he had wondered if Miss Kavanagh felt the same as he, now he knew that there was just no way.
“Is everyone well!” the cry came from the cliffs. “Up here!”
Morag stood on the edge of the cliff, and she waved eagerly when they saw her.
Alaric let go a deep sigh and looked away from Miss Kavanagh. “Crispin, take us to shore.” He indicated the way to where the cliff dropped so the shore met the water’s edge. “We will meet Morag, and you shall escort her back to the estate.”
“What of you?” Crispin asked.
“Me?” Alaric forced himself to turn back on Miss Kavanagh. She did not dare to look at him, but he knew that she felt his burning stare. “Miss Kavanagh and I need to talk. And it is best that you are not here when we do.”