Chapter Thirteen

For the next three days, Keiran and Rosalyn met at sunrise to continue his lessons. Not only was he starting to read all about Gulliver and his travels, with her assistance, but Keiran had also learned to write his name, and the names of the members of his family, Dunvegan Castle, Dunvegan village, and all the surrounding towns nearby. If Alastair presented him with the map Keiran had acquired from the Nicolsons again, he would now be able to read it. That thought brought a renewed sense of purpose to his soul.

At mid-afternoon every day, Rosalyn disappeared with all the other women of the family for an hour or two, then when she returned, she and Keiran spent the rest of the day either learning about Scotland’s history, all the things the Scots had invented, or with him trying to convince her to embrace her Scottish half with food, music, walks along the shores of the loch, or teaching her about her mother’s clan.

Today, he and Rosalyn would break their usual pattern because he had something different in mind. He had sent a note to her chamber for her to meet him in the front courtyard after she broke her fast.

He’d had her brown and white horse, Petunia, saddled as well as one of Alastair’s dappled grey Andalusians. The breed was not only strong and steady, but courageous in the heat of battle. Not that Keiran expected trouble on their journey today, but it was best to be prepared. Aria and Graeme sat atop their own horses near the gate, ready to accompany him and Rosalyn. Alastair would not agree to Keiran leaving the safety of the castle any other way.

They did not have to wait long for Rosalyn to emerge from the keep. “What is all this?” she asked, coming over to Petunia and reaching up to scratch behind her ears. The mare whuffled at her, then gave her a friendly headbutt. Rosalyn laughed. “She seems to be adjusting very well to the Dunvegan stables. Your stableboys should be commended.”

“I will inform them of your praise,” Keiran said, moving to Rosalyn’s side. He placed his hands to help her up. She set her booted left foot in his hands, and he tossed her up into the saddle. She landed as gracefully as thistledown. She grinned down at him as she adjusted her full skirts to fall over her legs. Bathed in the morning sun, Rosalyn looked enchanting atop her white horse in her new dark green riding habit. It was a perfect foil for her creamy complexion with a light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, brown hair, and hazel eyes.

Keiran moved to his horse, checked the tack, then mounted. In the distance, Graeme signalled for the gate to open. Before they set into motion, a familiar mist gathered in the courtyard as the Grey Lady took form. She remained at a distance, but even so the animals skittered and pranced.

“Good morning, Mother,” Keiran said, trying to keep his horse calm. Rosalyn had already soothed Petunia now standing at attention, watching the mist instead of reacting to it.

Before you leave, I had to see you and to warn you that I have had an odd feeling since dawn. I fear if the four of you leave the castle’s protection today something terrible might happen.

“All will be well, Mother,” Keiran assured her as warmth blossomed in his chest. He had never had anyone worry about him before. “We are taking precautions to keep ourselves safe by travelling on the open roads. Three of us are well armed and are perfectly able to protect ourselves. Though if it will make you feel more comfortable, we will stay close to Dunvegan and if we encounter trouble, we will return immediately.”

Lady Janet smiled. Forgive your mother for being overly cautious. You have only just returned to me, and I do not wish to lose you again.

Despite her fear, she would allow him to go, a bittersweet expression of her unconditional love. Keiran returned her smile as the warmth in his chest became a tightness. Every day he discovered new things about his family and himself that he had truly missed over the last nine years. “All will be well, Mother. We will return shortly. And when we do, we will call you forth so that you may see we are unharmed.”

Keiran turned and headed for the gate. Rosalyn followed as their horses still pranced with residual fear, but once they were clear of the gate they settled into a regular gait.

“We will travel to the north-east, along the coastline that is open and clear of brush as I promised my mother. The clear path will be good for a gallop when you are ready.”

“I am ready.” She set off at a canter in the direction he indicated.

By the time they were on the trail, she and her mare were flying. He kept pace behind her, enjoying the speed and watching her ride. He had no idea she was such a talented horsewoman. Eventually, she slowed her mount to a trot as the trail turned to the north.

She twisted to look at him, her face flushed with pleasure. “It feels wonderful to be out in the open. I have not felt such freedom in a very long while.” As he came alongside her, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“To a place where you can feel your Scottish roots more fully. I have never been there, but Alastair assured me it is a magical place where anyone with Scottish roots can become one with the land and the sea.”

“Then I am excited to see this place. I must admit Scotland and her people are starting to work their way into my heart,” she said, turning back to the path ahead, hiding her face from him.

Even so, Keiran latched on to her words as a thread of hope that he might win the competition they had agreed upon. Was he more excited that she might stay at Dunvegan, or that he might win a kiss from Rosalyn?

*

As dawn turnedinto morning, Lieutenant James Long paced restlessly outside his tent. He had been waiting three days for the two noddies he had sent to Dunvegan Castle to return with information about his betrothed. With every step, the lieutenant knew with more certainty that his men were not coming back. But did that mean they were captured, or had they seen an opportunity to escape him and his regiment and taken it?

The lieutenant drew his sword, displacing a whisper of air as it cut through his disappointment and his growing anger. In all the battles he had fought abroad and here in this godforsaken land, men had fallen at his feet, feeling the bite of his sword. The MacLeods would be no different. They would be easy prey for his well-armed and finely trained regiment. The trick would be to lure them out of their castle, past the woods surrounding Dunvegan, and into the open where his men excelled in fighting.

The question was, how would he lure the MacLeods out? He couldn’t capture one of them and hold them for ransom since they were holed up in their fortress. Perhaps he could do the next best thing and attack the village of Dunvegan, light it on fire, and force the MacLeods to come defend their people.

A smile pulled up one corner of his mouth. If a single MacLeod had saved his betrothed in the woods, then what would the MacLeod clan do when he threatened a whole village of people? With possibilities swirling through his mind, the lieutenant sheathed his sword, then headed for his regiment to inform them they would break camp immediately. The MacLeods could not take his betrothed from him and not feel the bite of his anger.

*

The sun wasalmost at its zenith when Keiran and Rosalyn reached the Fairy Glen. A dramatic scene lay before them with small, grassy hills, craggy rock formations, and ponds in between. Rosalyn had no idea what Fairyland was like, but she imagined it appeared something like the landscape in front of her. “I have never seen anything so beautiful. The land feels infused with magic. Are all areas of Scotland like this?”

“There are other areas that are beautiful, I am certain, but my family tells me the Isle of Skye is the land of our people. The connection to the land is as important to us as is the air we breathe and the blood that flows through our veins. And when I explore, I find their words to be more and more true.” He stopped his horse beside hers and instead of looking at the scenery, he watched her. “It could mean all that to you as well, if you let it inside your heart.”

Rosalyn swallowed roughly as tenderness flared in his eyes. As heat rose to her cheeks, she was grateful for the soft breeze that brushed against her face and tugged at the loose tendrils of hair that had escaped her plait.

Graeme and Aria must have noted her response because they shifted their horses around hers and Keiran’s. “We will go on ahead and find a place to secure the horses,” Graeme said before he and Aria proceeded down the hill, leaving Rosalyn and Keiran alone.

Keiran shifted his gaze to the landscape. “When Orrick found out we were coming here, he informed me that these rock formations were created over ten thousand years ago in the last Ice Age. He said they were formed by glacial movements. Yet many of the locals seem to believe that this is where fairies live.”

“Do fairies live here?” Rosalyn asked, searching his face.

His features tightened. “Fairyland and the human realm are intertwined. Fairies may live under the mounds we see here, or they may not. It is not always easy to tell.”

Rosalyn’s grip tightened on her reins, causing her horse to dance closer to Keiran’s. “Do you have only bad memories of Fairyland?”

He pressed his lips together and for a moment she thought he would not answer her. “I was under an enchantment while I was there which made everything seem different than it was. When the enchantment ended, I saw the truth. My whole life had been a lie.” Pain flared in his eyes. “None of that matters now that I am here. My family loves me. What more could I want?”

“Keiran, neither of us can undo our past.” Rosalyn noted the lines of grief and wariness at the corners of his eyes. “Since coming to Dunvegan, you have taught me that it is my past that has made me who I am today. Because of you, I was given a second chance to live. I could have chosen to wallow in the misery that had been my prior life. Instead, I am choosing to live, to embrace each moment, allowing it to make me stronger and more of who I am meant to be.”

“You are correct.” Weariness vanished from his eyes. “Thank you for that reminder. Today is what is important because who knows what tomorrow might bring.” For a moment, his gaze drifted into the distance as though looking for something only he could see. A heartbeat later, he turned back to her. “Shall we go explore?”

At her nod, they found the place Graeme and Aria had left their horses then started off down the hill, leaving their horses to graze near a large rock formation that Keiran called Castle Ewen. “The spire here is not a true castle, only a geological formation that many before us believed was a fairy castle.”

Graeme and Aria went to climb the castle, while Keiran led Rosalyn towards a series of large, mystical stone spirals.

She moved to the centre of the stones as she took in the vastness of the land surrounding her. A sense of awe and humility flowed through her with a growing intensity as she drew in the scents of the earth and the sky. Had her Scottish ancestors visited here? Had they felt the same sense of peace and tranquillity that came over her now? She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, feeling a connection to all living things. When she opened her eyes, Keiran stood before her.

“You feel it, do you not? That you are a small part of something bigger?”

She shivered as her heart began to thunder in her chest. “Is this what you feel? What all Scots feel? A profound connection to nature itself?”

He took her in his arms. “I cannot speak for all my people, but it is what I increasingly feel.”

She turned her face up to his. Searching his comforting gaze, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was so close. Close enough to kiss. She shifted forward, bringing her lips close to his.

“Does this mean you feel Scottish? That you concede to our competition?”

“Aye,” she said instead of her usual “yes.”

His lips brushed hers at first, then his arms closed more tightly around her, pulling her against the firmness of his chest as he kissed her deeply, persuading her to open herself to him as shivers tingled through her limbs.

She inhaled sharply and pulled back to stare into his face. His features were taut with strain but there was also something that had not been there before. Hope and desire.

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips as she tried to form the words to tell him she felt it too—a surge of something light and wonderful and pure. Before she could form the words, his lips descended on hers again. In response, her hands slipped up to his shoulders. Her touch became explorative as her lips softened beneath his. He deepened the kiss, demanding more from her in a world that had gone suddenly rich and sensual.

What was she doing? Rosalyn dragged her mouth from Keiran’s and shifted her head down against the frantic beating of his heart. “Your prize has been claimed,” she said in a ragged voice, trying to calm her own rapidly beating heart.

He stepped back, arms falling to his sides, his eyes still burning with the same desire she had seen there moments before. “Aye. It has. Yet, I—” His unsaid words hung between them.

Rosalyn wrapped her arms about her waist, fighting the urge to pull him close and lose herself in his kiss once more. She finally understood the desire that had destroyed her parents. Her one brief kiss with Lieutenant Long had caused no such reaction in her. With Keiran, her senses had been bombarded with sensation. The moment his lips had met hers, there had been a bond, a closeness, a sense of delight as well as vulnerability. And for a heartbeat, she had trusted him not to hurt her even though evidence pointed to the fact that was where this kind of connection would lead. “You are the one who wanted a kiss.”

He stepped farther away. “Let us go and join Graeme and Aria at the top of the castle formation.” He did not wait for her as he headed for the tallest peak in the Fairy Glen.

Rosalyn hesitated as every nerve in her body tingled at the memory of Keiran’s kiss, and the thrilling warmth of his body tight against her own. She pressed her hand to her lips, recalling the gentleness of his touch. This kiss had not been rough; it had held a certain reverence, a tenderness that she had not expected. She dropped her hand and took a step when something shimmered in the fairy ring in which she stood. Streaks of white light appeared, widening, and elongating a few steps from her.

She tried to step back, but her feet remained rooted in place. Rosalyn’s heart thundered in her chest as she watched the shifting light darken, then take form.

Far away a voice called. “Rosalyn...” The words echoed in her mind as a man formed before her. He was tall, with white hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes. He wore a golden crown on his head and his clothing was aristocratic yet seemed to be made from the fibres of trees and leaves.

He drew a sword. It flashed in the air. A scream lodged in her throat as the weapon came down. Then, the man vanished, leaving an empty space where he had stood with raised sword only a heartbeat ago. Her body trembled. In the distance, Keiran raced towards her. His steps seemed slow, exaggerated, as her heartbeat filled her ears. Then finally he reached her and wrapped his arms around her. Held her close until the frantic beat of her heart slowed.

“’Tis all right. I will never let him hurt you,” Keiran whispered against her ear.

Feeling more settled, Rosalyn pulled back. “Who and what was that? You saw it, did you not? I did not imagine him?”

“I saw him,” Keiran said, his voice raw. “Oberon, the fairy king, is alive and trying to return to the human realm.”

She concentrated on his words. “Oberon?”

“Aye. And that is not a good thing for any of us. Come.” He looped his arm around her waist and led her to the castle formation. When Keiran and Rosalyn approached, they hurried down from the rugged peak. As they came closer, Rosalyn could see the worry in their eyes. Were they afraid for her, or was something else amiss? A knot of fear tightened Rosalyn’s stomach.

“What is it?” Keiran asked when the couple reached them, sensing it was not the reappearance of Oberon that drained the colour from their faces.

Graeme met their gazes, but Aria stared into the distance.

“From atop the castle we could see a fire in the north-west near Dunvegan village,” Graeme said.

“Was it set by the fairy I saw?” Rosalyn asked, bringing Graeme and Aria’s questioning eyes to hers.

The air around them became heavy and still. “Oberon tried to enter this realm,” Keiran said. “He failed, but eventually he will succeed.”

“He is definitely alive?” The pitch of Aria’s voice rose.

Keiran nodded. “But it appears he is not our only problem at present. Oberon would not have done anything to destroy nature. His targets are always those made by man. So who could have set the fire?”

Graeme frowned. “Any number of our enemies, though I would wager it has something to do with Rosalyn more than the MacLeods.” His gaze shifted to her.

Rosalyn’s breath caught and she pulled away from Keiran’s side. “Lieutenant Long did this?” Guilt and anger over all those who would suffer because of her consumed her. She balled her fists.

“’Tis all right, Rosalyn. Not that a fire is good, but the village is abandoned.”

Graeme nodded. “Whoever set that fire most likely did not know all the residents had moved into the castle when we were being attacked by the MacDonalds.”

“You believe no one will be hurt?” Rosalyn asked, her fists loosening.

“Fire is destructive.” A hint of panic laced Aria’s words. “It could spread to the forest where my sister and mother live. We must hurry back and douse the flames.”

“We must proceed cautiously.” A hand on Aria’s arm held her back. “Our enemy might want us to rush to quench the flames, then attack when we are distracted.” He turned to Keiran. “You and Rosalyn should return to Dunvegan and gather reinforcements. Aria and I will head to the village and pray that the MacLeod warriors have not responded to the flames and fallen into a trap.”

Aria and Graeme moved towards the waiting horses, mounted, then set off towards Dunvegan. Keiran and Rosalyn followed, urging their horses into a run, flying over the open terrain.

Rosalyn could only stare at the black smoke rising in the distance. Even without proof, she knew her once-betrothed was responsible. Her fingers tightened around the reins in her hand. Her chest constricted at the thought that she had brought pain to the MacLeods and their people.

As unshed tears burned the back of her throat, she glanced at Keiran. His bearing was proud, and a look of determination had settled across his brow. Yet she did not miss the lines of worry that were etched beneath his watchful eyes. Their kiss and even Oberon’s reappearance seemed far from his thoughts as he concentrated on the billowing flames still so far away.