“I dinna understand,” Iain finally said.
How calm he sounded. Alana bit her lip, fighting tears. She had dreaded this day since meeting him. “I can see,” she whispered.
“If ye were not so frightened, I’d think this a jest.”
She shook her head.
“What do ye mean, exactly, that ye have the sight?” His knuckles turned white.
“I have visions...of the future...sometimes.”
He made a disparaging sound, his gaze fixated upon her. “No one can see the future.”
“I can.”
Another silence fell. A log fell in the fire, popping and hissing. “Ye only think ye can see, Alana.” He was firm. “’Tis impossible.”
He did not want to believe her. She was almost relieved. She was so tempted to let him continue to think as he was doing—but they were at Brodie, and everyone knew of her visions. “My father gave me a small dowry when I was fifteen. But everyone here in Buchan knows the truth, and the real reason I am not wed is because of my power,” she said hoarsely. “No one would have me, not even with my dower lands.”
He continued to stare, his eyes wide and hard, his expression becoming aggrieved. “I dinna believe ye,” he finally said. “No one cansee.”
She shrugged helplessly. “I have had visions since I was a child of five or six.”
Another terrible silence passed, in which neither moved. “What have you seen?” he finally asked.
She rubbed her cold arms. “I saw you, Iain, before we ever met, in battle at Boath Manor.”
“What?” he exclaimed.
“I saw every detail of the battle days before it happened. I saw your Highlanders battling Duncan’s soldiers, I saw the manor burning, I saw you rescue Mistress MacDuff and her children. I even saw that red-haired Highlander try to stab you in the back.”
“I dinna believe ye,” he said again, but with less certainty.
She could drop the subject, she thought, but the doubt was there, in his eyes, along with confusion and a determination to ferret out the truth. “When Eleanor and I were on our way to Nairn and we came upon the battle, I knew what was going to happen. So yes, I did shout at you in warning.”
“I heard ye,” he said, his mouth turned down. “But why did ye rush to me when I was stabbed? Why?”
“I don’t know why. I had to help you. I was terrified you were hurt, or that you would die!” She started to cry into her hands.
“Do not cry now,” he warned. He started to pace, wildly, with confusion and growing anger. Alana fought her sobs, but it was impossible. Her heart was breaking. He whirled to face her, seizing her wrists, and removing her hands from her face. “Yer tears will not move me, Alana,” he warned. “Why did ye help me? Why? Was there more to yer vision?”
“I don’t know why I helped you! It was as if I loved you already, I was that frightened for you!” she cried.
He shook her once and released her. “Ye couldn’t have loved me then. Were ye looking for me? Were ye sent to look for me?”
He was so suspicious, again! “My uncle sent for me, but no one knew of that vision except for Eleanor.”
He absorbed that. Then, “What other powers do ye have?”
She stiffened. “None.”
“I dinna believe ye! God—or the devil—gave ye but one power?” His blue eyes were wild now. “Have ye cast a spell on me?”
She gasped. “Of course not!”
“Because I have been bewitched, from the time we first met! Did ye cast a spell on Godfrey? He is smitten with ye! On Bruce? Who so easily gave ye Brodie, who so quickly allowed me to march on it?”
Alana staggered to her feet, reaching for him. He swiped her hands away. “Iain, I cannot cast spells! My only power is the sight!”
