Page 73 of Seduction in a Kilt

CHAPTER 32

After the disastrous scene at the dinner table, a heartsick Ivy had taken refuge in the solar on the upper floor of the castle. She was standing by the great, arching windows, clasping her hands tightly at her waist, staring up at the enormous silver moon that was hanging low in the sky. It was one degree from fullness and looked close enough for her to reach out and touch.

All below was bathed in its ethereal light. But she knew that tomorrow would bring the great blood moon, when the moon would turn from silver to an unearthly red. Its light would stain the land below like the aftermath of a terrible battle. The baleful herald was the subject of much fear and suspicion, a harbinger of change, not all of it good. It seemed the perfect portent for her marriage to Knox.

Tonight’s tranquil scene was the very opposite of the turmoil raging inside her just then. She had cried so much, she felt she had no more tears left in her, and her face was sore. The same tormenting thoughts kept going around and around in her head endlessly like a child’s whirligig.

Liam daesnae want me, and the day after tomorrow, I’ll be walkin’ up the aisle tae marry Knox. Knox is braw and funny and kind, he’ll be a good husband, nay doubt. And I’ll try tae be a good wife tae him. But ’tis nae him I love...

She was so tense with anxiety, so absorbed in her misery, she did not hear Evander come in and was unaware of his presence until he cleared his throat and came to stand next to her at the window.

She turned to look at him, his face washed in the moonlight. Although she did not know him well, she trusted him after he had saved her life and shared so many tender memories of her past.

“I heard what happened at dinner,” he said kindly.

She scoffed bitterly. “Which part? The bit where the laird proposed tae me, or the bit where Liam showed how little he cares fer me and stormed out?”

“Both. I’m very sorry, Ivy. I ken how much ye care fer Liam.”

“Thank ye fer yer sympathy, Evander, but it daesnae really help. I suppose I should count me blessin’s and be grateful tae Knox. He’s makin’ a sacrifice as well, nae just me. When I think the alternative is Gael, I count mesel’ very lucky. But somehow, I dinnae feel lucky at all. Even at this distance, I’m still Carson’s plaything.”

“Aye, sad tae say, in some ways, that’s the truth. But ye deserve tae be happy. I think Liam cares fer ye deeply. I’ve seen the way he looks at ye. And when I saw how he fought tae free ye from Gael’s henchmen at the chapel, well, I kent he’d die tae protect ye.”

Ivy turned to him in anguish. “Then why does he nae ask me tae wed him instead of Knox?”

Evander shook his head, his expression sad as he looked in her eyes. “I cannae answer that. But there must be a reason why Liam is shyin’ away from askin’ ye tae wed him. Have ye tried askin’ him about it?”

She shook her head. “Nay…”

“It could be somethin’ as simple as a misunderstandin’. If I were ye, I’d pluck up the courage tae go and ask him about it. If he has nae answer fer ye, then at least ye can give him a piece of yer mind.”

Ivy stared up at the moon and turned Evander’s suggestion over in her mind. “Maybe there’s truth in what ye say.”

“If yer happiness is at stake, ’tis worth confrontin’ him one last time, ‘tis it nae?” Evander said in an encouraging tone.

His words were like a ray of hope lighting up the darkness within her. She tuned to him. “I think I’ll dae that, Evander. Thank ye fer bein’ so understanding and tryin’ tae help me.”

“Aye, good luck. I pray it goes well fer ye.”

Ivy smiled at him before she headed for the door and set off down the stairs to her chamber, intent on her new mission to have it out with Liam.

Liam snapped out of the disturbing dream like a fish pulled on a line, gasping and thrashing, lying fully clothed on his bed. The words rang in his ears… “And as fer ye, lad, I can see ye’re soon tae meet the love of yer life… and when ye dae, ye’ll be tempted tae succumb tae yer deepest fears. And if ye dae, ye’ll loose her…”

The prophecy came to him as if from down a well, spoken by the scratchy, worn voice of an old woman, words he had made himself forget, because they had scared him half to death.

The old woman had appeared in front of him in the dream, or rather nightmare, as vividly as if she were there in the room. Shrouded in rusty, dark rags, her body shriveled with age, crook-backed, almost bald and toothless, she had fixed upon him a pair of pale, rheumy eyes that might have once been blue.

She was so vivid, he might have been back there again, standing in the hot, dusty dimness of her cottage buried deep in the woods, breathing in the strange aromas which permeated the place and made him feel dizzy. Old Selma the witch had frightened him then, and now, she had come to him in the nightmare and frightened him again.

But this time it was for a different reason. “…the love of yer life… ye’ll be tempted tae succumb tae yer deepest fears. And if ye dae, ye’ll loose her…”

Clarity came upon him then like a bolt from the blue, and he found he was not prepared to let that happen.

He sprang up from the bed and went to the interconnecting door. Just as he put his hand on the knob to turn it, it turned itself. The door opened, and he was suddenly face to face with Ivy.

“What are ye doin’, creepin’ up tae me door like that?”

“I wasnae creepin’. Anyway, I could say the same of ye.”