Colin cleared his voice, signaling that the time for good-byes was at an end.
“Dearest Bessie, be happy. Robert and his daughters need you. Don’t worry about me, I’m strong.” With one last kiss on the soft cheek of her childhood, she turned and climbed into the waitingbirlinn.
Smoky fingers of haze threaded the perfect circle of the iridescent moon above her as thebirlinnpulled away from the castle. She lifted her hand in silent farewell to the shrinking figure of Bessie poised forlornly at the base of the sea-gate stairs.
The droning sound of the oars dipping and pulling the water filled the silent boat. No one spoke a word. Men who had laughed easily with her only yesterday now acted as if she were a leper. On abirlinnfull of MacLeod clansmen, she felt completely alone. Isabel sat huddled on the boat, her puffy, tearstained face hidden from the curious stares by the deep hood of her cloak.
She had traveled full circle. Fate had won. Star-crossed enemies they had begun, and star-crossed enemies they would end.
For the last time, she lifted her red-rimmed eyes to the gray walls receding into the mist, hopelessly memorizing with watery vision the grim castle that she had come to love. A fresh spasm of despair filled her heart as her gaze was drawn to the top floor of the Fairy Tower, to that familiar window where she had looked out in happiness only yesterday.
As if sensing the shift of her eyes, a shadow moved away from the window. Her breath caught for an instant. Her heart pumped frantically with hope.Please give me a sign, any sign.She refused to blink lest she miss it. She kept her eyes glued to the window in the Fairy Tower, hoping and praying with every fiber of her being for a sign of forgiveness. She stared until the tower slipped into ghostly gray, swallowed by the ephemeral mist.
The dream was over.
Her heart had been cleaved in two—part of her was gone forever, left behind to rot in a much beloved old castle.
Chapter 23
The sound of a door opening shattered the peace of deadening solitude. Rory knew he’d been fortunate to avoid them for this long. Isabel had been gone now for almost a day. Margaret and Alex had shown remarkable forbearance considering the circumstances, but their patience had finally run out and they’d tracked him to the library. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he understood their questions. If only he had answers.
Rory directed his gaze back to the fireplace, where he had spent the last few hours staring placidly into nothingness. The sting of betrayal had dulled. Sinking deep into his chair, he took a long swig ofcuirm,allowing the drink to ephemerally kindle the emptiness smoldering inside him.
They stood beside the chair, waiting.
Finally, Margaret dropped to her knees beside him and took his hand in hers. “What happened, Rory? Won’t you tell us why you sent Isabel away?” She lifted the empty jug next to him. “I’ve never seen you like this, it scares me. Never have I known you to try to dull your senses with drink.”
If only it were that easy, Rory thought. He looked down at the confused, heartbroken face of his sister and cursed Isabel MacDonald again. This time for her betrayal of his family; he was not the only one who would be devastated by her treachery. Rory took a deep breath and dispassionately recounted the events yesterday leading to his discovery of Isabel with the Fairy Flag—or what he’d thought to be the Fairy Flag.
Their bewildered expressions mirrored what his had been, so thoroughly had Isabel charmed them.
“I don’t believe it,” Alex said dumbly.
“Oh, Rory,” Margaret said at the same time. “Did she offer no explanation?”
Rory couldn’t bite back the burst of sarcasm. “What for? For coming to Dunvegan under false pretenses as a pawn for her loathsome uncle, for spying on us, or for—” He stopped himself.Making me love her.He glared back into the fire so they would not see the pain twisting through him. He still couldn’t believe he’d been so wrong.
Margaret bowed her head on his hand, and her shoulders began to shake. “Oh, Rory, it is all my fault.”
Rory stroked her pale cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous. What part could you have played in this treachery?”
Margaret raised her tearstained face to his. “I overheard Isabel speaking with Sleat at the gathering, I heard him threaten her and say something about the flag. I should have come to you.” Her hands twisted. “I never thought…I knew she was hiding something, I just assumed she would eventually confide in you.”
Rory stared hard at his sister, unable to prevent the momentary flash of anger that went through him for another betrayal, from yet another unexpected source. He took another long drink and allowed the moment to fade. It would do no good to lash out at Margaret, not for doing what he’d done himself. Trusting Isabel.
“You should have come to me,” he said. “But don’t blame yourself, Margaret. You were only showing loyalty to your friend. She was an accomplished liar. You were not the only one she fooled.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone.
Alex shook his head, still stunned. “So she admitted coming to Dunvegan for the flag?”
Rory nodded tersely.
Margaret’s brows gathered across her nose. “But it wasn’t actually the flag she’d placed in her trunk?”
“No, it was an old shawl of Bessie’s. Though the resemblance was uncanny. For a moment it even fooled me.”
“But if she meant to steal the flag, why did she not do so when she had the opportunity?” Alex asked.
“She claimed that she’d decided she couldn’t betray us and was planning to use the shawl to trick her uncle.”
