Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (37 page)

He spoke first. “Who is she and why
is it so urgent for her to see me?”

Joanna blinked once at Adam’s
question. “I was about to ask the same of you!”

“What there is to know about
me...that I am willing to share with you...is what you heard from my brother.
Why she has asked for me, I can only guess, m’lady.”

“I take no issue with your wish for
privacy.” She felt the edginess creep into her own voice.  “But there is justification for my question. Certainly you can understand my concern over the
possibility of any unpleasantness being directed at her right now.”

“She called for me, Lady Joanna. But why should you think I would be anything other than civil to her?”

Joanna shrugged her shoulders. “I
do not know! But I see no reason why I should risk it, either. If keeping you
away from her means not granting her dying wish, I am prepared to do so, if I
think she’ll suffer more in meeting you.”

She watched his jaw tense. His gaze
drifted toward the door and then back to her face. Something around his eyes
softened. “I can see she is well cared for.”

“Aside from my husband and my
children, I am the only family she has left.”

“What happened to the rest?”

“They are all dead!” She didn’t
even pause in her answer. He wanted the truth; she gave it. And she was willing to keep giving it as long as he continued to become more human through their
conversation.

“Your parents--both dead?”

She nodded. “Both parents, my two
uncles, my grandfather. Aside from me, my grandmother has seen them all die.
Hers has been a life filled with horrors...some real and some imagined.” 

She saw the passing wave of sorrow
that flickered across his features. His gaze had once again turned to the door.
Joanna softened her own voice as she reached over and placed a gentle hand on
his arm.

“It has only been since my marriage
to Gavin Kerr that she has had a chance to live again. She moved to the Highlands to stay with us, to have her grandchildren around her, and to try to forget the
memories of all those deaths.”

“May I ask you something about her
past?”

He sounded almost gentle, and she
nodded. “I’ll tell you what I can, but I want you to know I’m still confused
about her interest in you and your interest in her!”

“That’s why I’m here.” He let out a
long, weary breath. For the first time, he was letting down his guard. “I am
searching for answers. For the answers to questions I have been carrying about
all my life.” 

She now caught a glimpse of an
unexpected vulnerability, a mix of emotions hidden just beneath the surface. And there was pain, as well, reflected in the depths of his eyes.

Leading him to a window seat across
the wide corridor, Joanna told him all she knew. She told him about her
grandmother’s marriage to Duncan, a man who abused his wife and other women
horribly. She told him about the curse of Ironcross Castle, and how it was
thought to have been the cause of her grandfather’s death, her two uncles’
deaths...and even the deaths of her own father and mother.

Seeing the questions in his eyes, Joanna told him about her own parents death in the fire in this wing, and how she and Gavin
finally found the secret that unlocked the ‘curse.’

“My grandmother believed in the power
of that curse. She had seen it destroy her family. ‘Twas only after Gavin and I
married that she was finally able to believe that those days were finished.”

“So you think she has made peace
with the past?”

Joanna thought about his question
for a moment and then shook her head. “I thought she had. But I was wrong. From hearing her it appears that only meeting you will let her...let her die in
peace.”

His face darkened as he looked at
the closed door.

“Is she truly ill?”

Joanna nodded. “I’ve been trying to
fool myself by not facing the truth. But I believe now she really is dying.”

Joanna paused as she stared at his
profile. Adam Stewart’s features were strong and weathered. His long hair,
auburn and wild, was loosely tied in back. His eyes were gray and piercing. He
was a Stewart--there could be no doubt of that. But there was something else in
his look. Something in the shape of the mouth, in the line of his jaw that
reminded her of someone else.

And then she knew. There was
something of her own father there in this man’s face.

“Will you allow me to see her?”

There was no hesitation this time,
and she nodded her consent. She had done the right thing in telling him the
truth. And in his manner, now surprisingly gentle, she could see that there was
a compassionate heart beneath the rough and defensive exterior.

Seeing Adam Stewart was a dying
woman’s wish. And whatever sin Lady MacInnes thought herself guilty of, Joanna now knew that this was a man with the power to forgive.

*****

Adam stood with his back to the
door and studied the old woman, propped up on pillows but asleep in the huge
oak bed.

Joanna Kerr had not only given her
consent to his meeting with her grandmother, but she also had motioned for Lady
MacInnes’s attending women to leave the chamber and wait outside, should they
be needed.

Now alone with her, Adam hesitated
before taking a step toward the bed. The elaborate, French damask bed curtains
had been drawn back, and he could see the bony white fingers scratching
fitfully at the fine lace bedclothes. The small, white-haired woman was
dreaming, but it was clear her dreams were restless and troubled. Even across
the room, he could hear each breath she labored to take.

By ‘is Blood, he prayed fervently,
let me die with a sword in my hand and an enemy before me!

Lady MacInnes’s eyes opened with a
start and tried to focus on her surroundings. In a moment, she looked around
and, seeing none of her usual attendants, noticed him by the door.

“Gavin! Is that you?”

Adam stepped closer. She appeared
so frail--her voice nothing more than a painful whisper. “Nay, m’lady. ‘Tis not
Gavin.”

“John! John Stewart!” She lifted a
fragile hand and waved it weakly in his direction. “Joanna...she told me you’d
come. She said you’ve taken a bride. What good news!”

Adam moved closer and almost
reached for the outstretched hand, but then decided against it, instead
clasping his hands behind his back.

“Nay, m’lady. ‘Tis not John,
either.” He hesitated, cursing himself for his cowardice. “‘Tis I...Adam...his
brother!”

The old woman stared at him, her
breathing no longer audible. Adam held his own breath and watched with growing
concern. Finally, she took another breath. A look of pain etched itself in Lady
MacInnes’s features, and as he gazed at her, he could feel that pain carving
itself upon his own heart. A tear formed in the corner of each of her tired
eyes and ran silently down her cheeks. Adam fought back his own.

“You!” Her voice was no more than a
ragged breath of air. “Adam!”

He stood still as her eyes studied
his face.

“My...Adam!”

He had to look away and close his
eyes to stop the tears from spilling down his face. He had to clench his jaw to
tame the emotions which were wreaking havoc on his heart. How long he had
waited to hear those words! How many long years!   

“Adam!”

Her quiet whisper drew his gaze
back to her. He stared through a curtain of tears at the woman who had brought
him into this world. He watched the feeble, trembling hands attempting to wipe
away the tears, the quivering of a chin lined with age. This time he didn’t
hesitate to reach out and take her frail hand in his own huge hands.

“I am here!”

“My...own...son. My Adam!” She
pulled his hands to her face, kissing them, pressing them to her wrinkled
cheeks. They must have felt  warm against the cold of her own skin.  “I
never...I never thought God would forgive me for...what I’ve done. I never
thought...you would come.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed.
The knot in his throat was the size of his fist, and he could not utter a word.
He just listened to the prayers of thanks pour out of her, prayers that hung in
the air for a moment--almost palpable in their presence--before floating
heavenward.

Whatever bitterness he might have
harbored in the past about his mother--whatever ill thoughts he might have born
about her motives--all these things meant nothing now.

Lady Agnes MacInnes, his own
mother, was a woman broken by time and life’s hardships. She was a woman at the
end of a life that had brought her little joy and much pain. She was a woman,
as Joanna had explained, who had suffered enough.

“I have so much to tell you,” she
whispered.

Adam had no intention of asking her
any questions. As far as he was concerned, just to have her want to see
him--just to have a chance to meet her, to see her, to touch her hands, her
face--that was far more than he’d ever hoped for. Infinitely more.

But the older woman was determined
to have her own way--to make her peace in the only way that she knew. By telling the truth. As she spoke, she paused often for breath, to wipe away her tears, to kiss
his hands.

“‘Twas I who went after John
Stewart, the third earl of Athol. I was a widow then. My husband Duncan was a
filthy brute who had more regard for his horse than for his wife. No one missed
him when he died--certainly not I. But our three sons were already old enough
to see to their own lives, and I had nothing. So I let the devil sway me. I
tried to rob a decent man of his honor.

“Your father was a handsome man. A
good man. He was a devoted husband to Anne. He was a loving father to his son
John. But never having had a husband who valued me or ever praised me for
anything, I coveted that man. Aye, Adam, I cheated my own friend Anne and set my traps to charm another woman’s husband.

“He resisted me at first. He tried
to believe that he was mistaken about my encouragement. But I pursued him. I became more open in my advances. Never would I miss an opportunity to remind him,
when our families would gather, of his foolishness in passing up the
satisfaction I had to offer him. I promised him that Anne would never know. I
reminded him with a whisper, a touch, a look, that I was there for him.

“He continued to resist, but I knew
that I had him. As old as we were, I knew he found me desirable. I had never
before used wiles in bringing a man to my bed. But with John Stewart, desire
became a madness. I had a thirst to feel a real man lying with me.

“My chance came when one summer Anne took young John and sailed for France. The lad was to be schooled there. Knowing that John
was left alone--understanding that this was probably the best opportunity I
would ever have--I went after him.     

“Even a saint could not have
resisted such temptation! He surrendered to me, and I spent those first days
and nights in total bliss, for he
was
the man I knew he would be. But as the days passed, a thought kept tormenting me. ‘Twas the thought of how empty my life had
been before him. Of how empty it would be when he was gone.

“I was tempted to forget that I had
promised not to ruin his life with Anne. I considered it very carefully. But then, we had made a bargain--a pact that I would let him go when the time came. That when
our allotted time together was finished, I would leave him alone forever and
ever.

“We went our separate ways, and I
held to my part of the bargain. I stayed away. But all along, I dreamed of him
missing me--of wanting to taste once again what we’d shared. I dreamed of him
coming after me.

“But he never did. He was once
again true to the woman with whom he’d shared most of his life. His only true
love was Anne.

“Oh, I had been persistent. I had
played the wench and stolen my best friend’s husband--for a time. But the reality of all I’d done--of the sin that I had committed--didn’t really come home to me
until my oldest son Alexander drowned in the loch you can see out that window.
My Alexander died only a few weeks after my affair with Athol had ended.

“I was distraught. I recalled the
curse that a simple woman named Mater had cast on me and my family years
earlier. I held her responsible for deaths of both Duncan and Alexander. Then, to further confirm my fears, Thomas, my second son, nearly died.  People tried
to tell me ‘twas an accident. I knew the truth. I knew Mater was responsible.

“And then, my life fell apart. I
discovered that I was with child. That in my advanced age, I had conceived a
bairn. That I was carrying the fruit of John’s and my passion. I was carrying
you.

“I was so distracted by grief and
shock that the shame of being a widow with child did not even occur to me. Now,
I thought, Mater would have another victim for her curse. So I kept my secret
to myself. I went to the Western Isles, to a priory I know there. I remained
there the entire winter. I gave birth to you there.

“I held my little babe in my arms. I
named you Adam, and all I could think of were the horrible things that would be
awaiting you in your life. Thomas and John, my other surviving sons, did not
even know that you existed. But I was blinded with fear of this monster I had
conjured up in Mater.

“‘Twas not shame of revealing the
truth to my sons or the world that made me send for Athol, your father. I
simply knew of no one else who could protect you from Mater.

“He came as I knew he would. And he acted as honorably, for Athol was a man of principle. He took you away as I asked him to.
To a place where no one would know or ever guess your kinship with me. To a
place where you would be safe.

“Years passed, Adam. ‘Twas not long
before Thomas died, black in the face from poison. His death reaffirmed my
decision to send you away. I could not stay in the Highlands any longer; I fled
to Stirling. I assumed that your father had placed you with someone in the Highlands, and I feared being too close. I feared discovering where you were and...wanting
you back!