“Nae exactly,” I protested, though guilt pricked at my conscience. “I came here because I did nae have another choice. The witch would lift my curse only on this condition. I do nae seek to harm Munro. Making him feel again will benefit him and the lasses.”
“And after?” James pressed. “When ye’ve succeeded in this task and had yer curse lifted? What then?”
“Then I return to Liam,” I said, straightening my spine as I spoke his name. “I show him and his parents that I am nae mad, that I’m cured of what ailed me. His parents made him break the betrothal with me, and once the curse is broken, they’ll let him proceed with our betrothal as planned.” Or I hoped they would. My plan revolved around that being true.
James’s laugh was short and sharp, devoid of humor. “So ye’re doing all of this for a man who did nae even choose ye when it became difficult.”
Heat rushed to my face, anger flaring hot. “Ye do nae ken a thing about Liam,” I snapped. “He did nae have a choice. His parents forbade the match when they heard the rumors of my madness. What was he to do?”
“Fight for ye,” James replied without hesitation. “Stand by yer side. Believe in ye when no one else would.” His gaze hardened. “As I would do for a lass I loved.”
The simple truth of his words struck me hard. Liam had not fought for me. He had accepted his parents’ decree and had noteven had the courage to tell me himself. The thought sent a wave of doubt through me that I quickly suppressed.
“It matters nae,” I said, lifting my chin. I couldn’t let it matter. If I did, what of my plan? “Liam loves me, and I love him. Once I’m free of this curse, we can have the life we planned.”
“If that’s what ye truly want,” James said, his tone making it clear he doubted it was. “But mind ye, if ye hurt Munro in yer quest to free yerself, ye’ll answer to me.”
“I do nae intend to hurt him,” I said, my voice softening despite myself.
“Precisely how do ye plan to make him feel again?” James asked, folding his arms across his chest. His stance had softened somewhat, but his eyes remained sharp, assessing. I straightened my shoulders, drawing strength from the certainty of my purpose. For all his intimidation, James might prove a powerful ally if I could convince him of the merit of my plan that had been forming and refining since my first day in the castle.
“Through his daughters,” I answered without hesitation. “They’re the bridge to his heart, though he’s tried to destroy it. I’ve seen how he watches them when he thinks no one is looking. He’s like a starving man gazing at food he believes is poisoned.”
James’s expression remained neutral, but he didn’t interrupt as I continued.
“Each time the lasses say something about themselves, he tenses or puts more distance between himself and them. I believe it’s because each thing they reveal reminds him how much he’s missed, how distant he’s been. I intend to create more of those moments where he can nae avoid seeing them, hearing them, knowing them.” My voice grew stronger as I spoke, conviction warming my blood. “And each time he interacts with them, the wall he’s built around his heart will crack a little more.”
James nodded. “I believe that as well, but I do nae believe it will be enough.”
“Nae all at once,” I admitted. “But children have a way of slipping past our defenses. Munro can nae look at his daughters without remembering Isabella. But what if he could look at them and see them first? What if, instead of pain, the sight of them brought him pride? Joy, even?”
A half-smile quirked the corner of James’s mouth. “Ye’ve given this thought.”
“I’ve little else to think about,” I replied. “Making Munro feel again is my only path to freedom.”
“It’s a good start,” James said, running a hand through his hair. “But, as I said, it will nae solve everything.”
I frowned. “What do ye mean?”
“Munro carries so much guilt, rage, and grief so deep he can barely remember who he was before Isabella died.” James’s voice dropped lower, compelling me to lean forward slightly to catch his words. “The lasses may help him remember how to love, aye, but what of the rest? The guilt that gnaws at him day and night? The conviction that he failed his wife?”
I didn’t have immediate answers for his questions, and I realized I needed more thought on my plan of action, but before I could voice this, James said, “It seems to me if what ye are saying is true, that if ghosts really are talking to ye, then ye should quit trying so hard to ignore them and mayhap listen to them.”
I stared at him, certain I had misheard. “What?”
“Perhaps they speak for a reason.” His eyes held mine, steady and serious. “Ye say a woman’s voice keeps telling ye to ‘tell him there are liars amongst him.”
I nodded.
“Seems to me, considering what Munro believed about Isabella nae jumping to her death, that it’s possible it is Isabellaspeaking to ye. That she might be trying to tell ye something important.”
My mouth went dry at the suggestion. “Even if it were true, I can nae simply…” I trailed off, uncertain how to express the fear that gripped me at the thought of willingly opening myself to the voices that had tormented me for so long.
“I ken yer fearful,” he said, picking up on what I’d not voiced aloud, “but I ask ye to consider it.” He turned away abruptly, striding toward the garden gate with the same purposeful steps that had brought him to me. Before passing through, he paused and looked back. “For Munro’s sake and perhaps for yer own as well.”
Once he disappeared from the garden, it was just me and my racing thoughts. Could he be right? Was I so determined to silence the voices that I was ignoring something vital? The very possibility sent a tremor through me.
A flutter of movement above caught my eye, drawing my gaze upward to the stone rampart overlooking the garden. Two figures stood there, silhouetted against the late afternoon sky, and I recognized them at once—Gordon Ross and his wife, Lady Magdalene. They were too distant for me to make out their expressions, but there was something in their stance, in the way they stood so perfectly still, that suggested they’d been watching for some time.
