Page 35 of The Return of the Heir

Gwendolyn moved to the window that was still open from last night. She gazed down at the rear of the castle to see several young men with swords practising in the wide-open space. The sound of steel striking steel filled the salt-tinged air. Amongst the young men, she spotted Samuel who sparred with another boy twice his size, and yet her brother seemed to be holding his own. The look on his face was one of total concentration, yet every few moments, a delighted smile appeared. “Our brother looks happy.”

“Returning to a normal life will make all of us happy, to be sure,” Arabella said in a wheezy voice. A moment later she doubled over, coughing.

Instantly, Lottie was at her side. The healer pressed a mug of the steaming brew she’d been making into Arabella’s hands. “Drink this, it will calm your breathing.” Then turning towards Gwendolyn she added, “Your sister needs to rest.”

Between calming sips, Arabella nodded. “Will you see to me again?”

Gwendolyn came to the bedside and pressed a kiss to her sister’s head. “I’ll never be that far away, should you need anything.”

Gwendolyn left the chamber but paused at the staircase that led up to the drawing room where the MacLeods had once kept their most prized possession. Last night a thought had formed that she needed to right the wrong she had done to the MacLeod family when she’d given Garrick the Fairy Flag. Alastair had been understanding of the situation she’d been forced into. But she hadn’t missed the pain in his expression when she’d confessed to handing the flag over to their enemy. Garrick had made it clear over the past few years that a war was brewing between the clans. The MacLeods needed their gift from the fairies to bring them luck in such a situation.

Instead of heading to the great hall, Gwendolyn made her way to the drawing room on the third floor. The chamber was thankfully empty when she stepped inside. Since there was nothing left to protect, the guard was no longer stationed there. Instantly, her gaze moved to the empty frame between the two windows. Had the MacLeods left it up to remind them of what had been lost?

She swallowed to ease the aching tightness in her throat. She’d stood in this place five years ago, but also when she’d first come to the castle. It was on that day that Norman MacLeod had told her his version of how the MacLeods had come to possess the Fairy Flag.

It was in the woods not far from the castle where Iain MacLeod first met a fairy princess. The two fell in love. Her father, Oberon, at first refused to allow the couple to marry. But finally he succumbed to his daughter’s pleas and allowed the couple to marry for a year and a day. Nine months later, she gave birth to a son. Eventually, the time came when the fairy had to return to her own world. Before leaving, she made her husband promise never to leave the child alone or let him cry, for that would be too much for her to bear.

In the weeks following his wife’s departure, Iain kept his promise and was a devoted father even though he was heartsick at losing his wife. In an attempt to cheer the laird up, his friends and family had a banquet. Iain’s spirits began to revive at the merry music and revelry that was so loud it filled the entire castle with noise.

Curious about what was happening belowstairs, his son’s nursemaid left the nursery to peek at the excitement. While she was gone, the child started crying, but no one could hear him, except his fairy mother.

She appeared beside him and wrapped him in a fairy shawl. She sang to him a fairy lullaby—a song the Grey Lady had taught Gwendolyn and her siblings—and put the child back to sleep.

When the laird discovered the nursemaid in the great hall, he hurried to the nursery. He could hear the song as it was sung to his child but could not see to whom the voice belonged. It wasn’t until the child was older before he told his father that it was his mother who had come to him that night and wrapped him in the Fairy Flag. She’d told him the flag was to be used as a talisman to protect the clan in the future.

Simply having Am Bratach Sith, as the Fairy Flag was known to the MacLeods, in their possession, was said to bring them luck. However, if the clan was in distress, and they waved the flag three times, a fairy army would supposedly appear and lead them to victory. The magic was said to only work three times before the Fairy Flag, and the magic it possessed, would return to the fairy world.

Gwendolyn slowly clenched her hands into fists as she turned from the chamber. Self-recrimination would not help her now. At least she knew where the flag had been taken. Garrick had bragged about its location many times over the years. And what was stolen once, could be stolen again. She had to figure out how she could return the flag to its proper resting place, restore the magic to the MacLeods, and clear her conscience.

There had to be a way. And if there was, she would find it. She owed it to the MacLeods and to Alastair.

Having tallied too long already, Gwendolyn hurried to join Rowena in the great hall. With luck, Alastair might not be there. Perhaps he was practising with the others in the courtyard and she wouldn’t have to see him again so soon after the kiss they’d shared. Nervously rubbing her hands together, she entered the chamber to find not only Rowena and Callum, but also Alastair. Yet Beatrice and her father were nowhere in sight. Perhaps they were as worried about dining with her as she was of them.

“Good morning,” Callum greeted.

“Good morning, Callum,” Gwendolyn answered with what she hoped was a gracious smile. Then, because the situation was as uncomfortable as it was foreign to her, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Something smells good.”

“It’s rashers.” Alastair’s gaze drifted over her. It lingered on the tight bodice of her gown before he said, “Something is different about you.”

She tried not to squirm at his unsmiling appraisal as she reached up and touched one of the loose tendrils of hair at her cheeks. “Rowena cut my hair and was kind enough to let me borrow one of her gowns.”

“Sit down,” Callum interrupted in a jovial tone. When she took a seat opposite Alastair at the large table, Callum signalled the servants for a plate to be brought to her. “You slept well, I take it?”

“Very well.” The feather mattress had been even softer than she remembered.

Rowena poured a cup of tea from a steaming pot before her and sent it down on the table towards Gwendolyn. She gratefully accepted the cup and held it in her hands. She closed her eyes, savouring the sweet, floral fragrance. Botanical notes mixed with earthy ones reminding her of the joy that tea used to bring her. It had been so long since she’d indulged in such a simple pleasure.

Gwendolyn opened her eyes and took a sip, allowing the heated liquid to bathe her throat. She stopped from taking a second sip when she suddenly realised everyone was staring at her. Quickly, she set the cup down, fearing she had done something wrong.

“Oh my heavens,” Rowena said. “It’s been five years since you’ve had a cup of tea hasn’t it?”

Gwendolyn nodded. It had been five years since she’d had anything but bread, gruel, or the occasional table scraps. Hot tea in a cup seemed a luxury indeed.

A server set a plate of rashers, eggs, and a broiled tomato before her. The savoury scents almost overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she’d had a hearty breakfast. She wasn’t certain she would be able to stomach such rich food.

Rowena must have noticed the way she stared at her plate, because the young woman stood and brought Gwendolyn a slice of toast and a single boiled egg instead. “Why not start with this. It might be easier for you to handle than rashers and eggs.”

“I’m so sorry you had to endure such hardship.” Alastair’s voice cracked and misery reflected in his dark gaze. “Can you ever forgive us for failing you and your sibling so desperately?”