A groom came forward, leading a smaller mare that they had brought along to be her mount. He helped her into the saddle, his touch hot against her skin, and she wanted more than anything to turn and step into his arms. Why was he letting her go so easily, damn it! Why wasn’t he asking her to stay with him? She looked at him for the space of two heart beats before she gathered up the reins, but he only stepped back from the horse and looked away.
Thanks to Bren’s expert tutoring, she could ride well enough now not to completely embarrass herself in front of everyone, as long as the horse cooperated. She urged the mare forward to join the rest of the riders, before she looked back at him again. This time her father took notice, his eyes narrowing, his gaze shifting suspiciously between the two of them. Bren just stood there, impassive, arms crossed over his chest. Was he really just going to let her go? Had she imagined what was between them? Or was it nothing to him? Maybe, after he had had time to think about it, he had changed his mind. She had thought she could just leave, knowing that she would come back, but now that the moment had come… it wasn’t so easy. She wanted… she wanted Bren to beg her to stay, if she was being honest. Why wasn’t he begging her to stay?Because now she belonged to her father. He would have to beg another laird, and he would never do that. He would sooner steal her away. She had been so sure of his feelings for her only yesterday, but now doubt began to plague her mind. She desperately wanted reassurance that nothing had changed, that he still wanted her above all else, but none was forthcoming.
“Come”, Loghan said. “We need to leave now.”
She cast one last look at the Laird of Creagmor, and her heart broke a little, no, a lot. They rode away towards the north.
On the journey to her father’s home he said little, but then they were constantly surrounded by his men. They arrived at Dunreven Castle after dark. It was very late, and she was very tired after her first-ever full day in the saddle. When she tried to dismount, her exhausted legs and shaky muscles wouldn’t hold her, and so much to her humiliation she was carried directly to her room by a guard. Even then, she felt bow-legged, as if she was still astride her horse.
At Dunreven Castle, she had a large room all to herself. She changed into a night dress that had been laid out for her, and stretched out on a huge bed with a mattress stuffed with feathers, not straw like the one she had been sleeping on by the hearth in the maid’s chamber. Being the daughter of a laird apparently had its advantages. Despite all of the thoughts racing through her mind, her body gave out, and she was asleep within minutes.
The next morning, a maid brought food to her room, and water to wash with. After breakfast, when no one came to her room to retrieve her, Faith went down to the hall, and finding no one there either, she went outside to walk in the garden and think things through. She could see the guards on the wall watching her, and she couldn’t decide if their presence made her feel safe or trapped. Probably closer to trapped at the moment. She hadn’t gone far when she heard someone on the path behind her and spun around to see who had followed. It was her father. She was a little ashamed to admit to herself that she had hoped it was Bren.
He smiled at her, a bit warily, but overall his face seemed kind enough. “May I walk with ye… Faith? I think we have much to discuss.”
“Yes, of course. I… need to talk to you, too.”
She glanced up at the guards again. They seemed to be watching her a bit less closely now that her father was with her. Did he think she would try to run away?
“It’s good to have ye home, lass. I… I have thought of ye often over the years. I always wondered how ye fared, and if ye were safe and happy.”
She looked down at her feet, now clad in the finest of shoes. New clothes had been laid out for her this morning as well. “I can’t say the same, because I never even knew about you. I never even knew about… here.”
Loghan’s mouth pressed into a grim line for a moment. “Yer mother was going to tell ye, when ye were old enough. When she thought ye would understand, or when it was near time for ye to return.”
“Well she never told me. Then she died, and I was all alone.”
He nodded, and she thought she saw a flash a sorrow in his eyes. “How… how did she die?”
Faith hesitated.Car crashwould mean nothing to him. “It was in an accident, while travelling.”
He was staring straight ahead, his gaze far away as if remembering. “I loved her, ye ken.”
Faith’s lips curled in a tiny smile. It was good to know her mother had been loved. Perhaps she had loved him too. Perhaps that was what she held onto all of those years. She must have held onto something, to make her so strong.
She shook her head. “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for her. Going to another time, raising a child all on her own. She had more strength than I even gave her credit for.” How on earth had she done it? Faith smiled, a little sadly. “I guess that explains my life-long passion for history. More than explains it.” She looked around, took a breath. This manwho was her father, in time she would come to know him, maybe even to love him.I belong here. I’m finally home.
“She was not completely alone”, he said almost as if to himself. “She would have had help, now and then.”
Faith wondered what he meant by that, but did not press further. The moment did not seem right, and there would be time enough later, when they knew each other better, to talk more about her mother.
They walked in silence for a moment, still strangers, not really knowing what to say, or how to begin, until Faith finally turned to him with a question that had been burning in her mind for some time.
“Father…”God how strange it was to say that!... “Who is the Laird of Creagmor, exactly? Do you know much about him?”
“He is Chief of the Mac Coinnachs, a verra ancient and powerful clan, as was his father before him.”
“No, I mean, there’s been all this talk at Creagmor about dark wizards, and… and magic. I don’t know anything about any of that.”
“Ah, ye want to ken if he’s a dark wizard?” He shook his head. “Nay he’s no’.”
She hadn’t thought so, but that wasn’t exactly what she meant. “Then what is he? How is it that he can do… things?”
Her father laughed softly at her question, as if it bordered on the ridiculous. “He’s a Mac Coinnach, they are just born that way.” He sobered as he regarded her still pensive face. “Has he been good to ye lass? Has he hurt ye in any way?”
“No. No, he hasn’t hurt me.”
“Has he had his hands on ye then?” he asked through a heavy scowl. “Do I have need to avenge yer honor, daughter?”
