Sapphire Dream (31 page)

Authors: Pamela Montgomerie

BOOK: Sapphire Dream

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“The Camerons, eh?” He offered her one of the chairs, but she shook her head. She was too wound up to sit.

Her fingers twisted around one another, agitation winding her tight as a drum. “What do you know about the Earl of Slains and the prophecy, sir?”

“I ken all there is to know, I wager.”

“Are Brenna Cameron’s parents still alive?”

The question startled him. His eyes widened, then narrowed with suspicion. “And why would you be asking, lass?”

Her eyes blurred with tears. “Please. I need to know.”

James watched her for long minutes as if trying to make sense of her. Slowly his expression cleared and when he spoke, his voice was warm.

“Last I heard, aye. Alex Cameron was hale. But Ena . . .” He shook his head sadly. “She died in childbirth a long time ago.”

Brenna blinked hard, clearing her vision. She knew that. In the deep recesses of her memory, she remembered. It’s why she’d never waited for her mother to find her. She’d always known her mother was gone.

But not her father. “Where is he now?”

James gave her a small, gentle smile. “I imagine he’s home, Brenna. Deveron House. He’ll be muckle glad to have you home, lass.”

Home.
Brenna covered her mouth against the tide of emotion that welled up and overflowed. He was alive. Her father was alive. Waiting for her.

Tears slid down her cheeks and she began to cry, great gulping sobs. All the loneliness for so many years, all the times she’d wondered why he never came for her. Now she knew.

She felt the press of a handkerchief into her hand and blinked to find James standing beside her, his expression soft and kind.

“Och, lass, ’tis a wondrous thing, your return. He knew you’d be back. I do not ken how, but he knew when you were grown you’d return.” Inexplicably, he began to laugh. “I remember you well. You were a wee bit of a thing with a heart like a lion even then. You’d taken a liking to my nephew and near drove him to distraction. You followed him everywhere.” He looked at her quizzically. “Where have you been, lassie?”

Brenna wiped her tears on the handkerchief. “It’s a long story.” The understatement of the year. “I have to get to my father.”

“ ’Tis several days’ ride. I’m sure Rourke will take you once he recovers.”

Brenna shook her head, knowing what she had to do. “I’m not waiting for him. He’s not coming with me.” The thought of leaving him broke her heart, but it wouldn’t be any easier if she waited. For either of them. Rourke wanted to return to sea. By leaving now, she’d be freeing him of any lingering responsibility he might feel for her.

Besides, if she waited for him to wake up, he’d only start making decisions for her again. He’d probably insist she stay here, safe, while he sent someone for her father or went to get him himself. No, she wasn’t playing that game anymore. This was her life, her father, her family. And while it would break her heart to leave him, it was better this way. No good-byes. No having to listen to his false promises to come back for a visit. No chance of giving away just how desperately she didn’t want him to go.

Brenna gripped her elbows against the pain of leaving him and looked at his uncle. “Can I borrow a horse? And maybe a guide?” If only she could call for a rental car and pull up MapQuest.

“Yes. Of course.” James frowned. “Brenna, I’ll not keep you here against your will, but I do not think you should leave while the lad sleeps.”

“I want to leave right away. I’ve been waiting to see my father for far too long already.”

“But Rourke . . .”

“He’s going back to sea.” The man’s expression turned pained and she reached out to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been the one to tell you that.”

“You cannot know what he intends.”

“He told me he wants to go back to sea. But either way, it doesn’t matter. If you know who I am, you know the Earl of Slains is still looking for me. Rourke’s lost too much because of me already. He’s a good man. An honorable man. And I’m afraid he’ll stick by me out of some misplaced sense of duty when all he wants to do is leave. I don’t want that. It’s too dangerous.” She met the older man’s eyes, willing him to understand. “If he dies because of me, it’ll kill me.”

And she knew it was true. She
wanted
him to go back to sea. Far from the Earl of Slains and his soldiers.

“So you’re taking the decision out of his hands.”

“Yes. When he wakes up, tell him . . . tell him I’ll never forget him. But I can take it from here. We each need to get back to our own lives.”

James pressed his lips together unhappily, then nodded. “I will ready provisions and an escort. How soon do you wish to travel?”

“An hour? I need to change back into the clothes I came in.”

“Nay, lass, the gown is yours. I will have your maid prepare others as well. I’ll not have you arriving at Deveron House looking like one of the servants.” He smiled sadly. “Your father will be most pleased to have you returned to him.”

Her father. In a couple of days she’d be with him again at last. The thought was as fragile and extraordinary as a snowflake, even as the thought of never seeing the pirate again felt like a solid chunk of ice in her heart.

She thanked Rourke’s uncle, and returned to Rourke, who remained exactly as she’d left him, sound asleep.

Standing over him, looking down at his beloved face, she could barely breathe. How was she ever going to live without him?

But it was time she took control of her life again. She’d spent her childhood tossed about like a leaf in a storm and long ago sworn she’d never depend on anyone but herself.

She’d relied on Rourke because she’d had to.

But no more. She’d learned from the lessons of her past, learned to take care of herself. Her world may have changed, but not that. Never that. She was through being the leaf.

The time had come to be the storm.

Rourke woke, unsure of the day or time, but feeling alert and strong as he hadn’t the last time he’d opened his eyes. The sun was bright. He could tell that much as he sat up and untangled his legs from the blanket.

His gaze searched for Brenna, but the chamber was empty save for himself. With a sinking feeling, he remembered their conversation when he’d last woken. He’d told her nearly everything. And she’d not been pleased.

He needed to explain. She had to understand why he’d kept the truth from her. Why he’d tried to send her back. The prophecy would destroy her, even now, for the Earl of Slains would not give up until she was dead.

He dressed quickly, then strode toward the door. The wildcat was not an unreasonable woman. She’d understand once he had a chance to explain. Then she’d sail with him away from Scotland.

Far from the reach of the Earl of Slains’s sword.

Rourke stormed into the Laird’s Hall as the midday meal was being served. The scent of roast lamb mingled with that of fresh-baked bread, making his stomach clench with hunger. But his thoughts were not on food.

His uncle saw him and smiled. “You have awakened at last.”

Rourke’s gaze scoured the long table. “Where is she?” He’d found her bedchamber empty. The lass had few enough possessions, to be sure, but naught remained. Nothing. It was as if she’d never been here. Even the soap from the washstand was missing.

James rose from the table and motioned him into his private chambers, then closed the door behind them. “Brenna left this morn for Deveron House with an escort of four men.”

Rourke stilled. “Ye know who she is.”

“When she came to me to ask after Alex Cameron with tears in her eyes, I kent the truth, aye?”

“Why did you let her go?”

James squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I suggested she wait for you, lad, but she was ill-disposed to do so.” He opened his eyes and pinned him with a gaze as pale as his own. “She seemed to think you are heading back to sea.”

“I am.” The words rang hollow to his own ears. “I was. God’s blood, I dinna know what I’m doing.” He turned, agitated. “She’s displeased with me. I failed to tell her she might have family still alive.”

His uncle was silent for several moments. “Why is that?”

“She’s not safe here. I wished to send her back to where she’s been living. Back where the Earl of Slains couldna reach her.” At first, he’d only sought to distance himself from that damned prophecy, but over the course of the days since Hegarty brought her back, that had changed. Brenna had changed him. “I sought to protect her, Uncle.”

Because she’d stolen his heart.

His uncle nodded, his eyes warm. “As she seeks to protect you.”

Rourke stilled. “What do ye mean?”

“She knows the earl will continue to hunt her. She doesna want you killed when he finds her.”

“Brenna said that?”

“She said as much, though ’tis not the message she asked me to convey to you.”

“What message?”

“She’ll naught forget you, but you each have lives of your own to live.”

“Bloody hell.” His chest began to ache. He rubbed it as he paced. “She should have waited for me.”

“She was anxious to see her father.”

Rourke’s gaze snapped to his uncle’s. “He still lives?”

“Aye.”

“What of her mother?”

“Her mother died in childbirth years ago. Before the fire. Indeed, word had reached Picktillum that very morn. Brenna, the wee lassie, took it poorly. I remember watching her fly from this room after your father broke the news to her.”

The morn of the fire.
He hadn’t known. And suddenly the events of that morning made a horrible kind of sense.

“Alex Cameron has never given up hope of his daughter’s return, Nephew.”

Rourke eyed him with confusion. “He knows, then? That she was sent . . . away?” Had Hegarty gone to Deveron House to talk to her father? He’d never said.

“Aye. He knows. He expected her to return when she was grown, but he’s been expecting her for nigh on ten years. Alex has feared her lost to him.”

Rourke frowned. He’d never given any thought to Brenna’s father—a man who’d lost his wife and daughter within days of one another. His daughter had finally come home. Yet Rourke had conspired to keep her away.

Fool.
Aye, she would be safer in her own world, but her world was not without dangers of its own. Her experience at fifteen told him that much. She had family awaiting her return, prepared to protect her with the same fierceness that his had shown when he went to draw out Cutter. Yet he would have denied her that. He would have sent her back to her isolation.

I’ve spent my whole life wondering why they never came for me, why they never tried to find me.

He poured himself a dram of whiskey and tossed it back, feeling the burn all the way to his empty stomach.

“I’m going after her.”

“You are only just recovered, lad.”

“If ye know who she is, then ye know well the danger that follows her. I’ll not leave her to the mercy of the earl and his men.”

“She has an escort of four.”

“Aye. Before dawn she’ll have an escort of five.”

“Seven. You’ll not ride alone.”

Rourke smiled and nodded. It was a good feeling to have kin at his back.

As he rode out of the castle a short while later, two of his kinsmen at his side, he wondered what had happened to that desperate need that had plagued him since he dove off the ship. The need to escape to the coast and sign aboard the first passage to the Caribbean.

Everything had changed. The sea held no interest for him. The Goodhope Plantation no refuge.

Brenna was not there. She’d taken the light with her when she left him. A light that had only begun to shine within his heart for the first time in twenty years.

When had the bane of his existence become the light of his very life? But she had. With every breath he took, he longed to touch her silken hair and catch a flash of her smile.

He loved her.

And he would do everything in his power to keep her safe. Once he saw her into the keeping of her family, he’d turn to the cause of the problem that had plagued their lives for too long. The Earl of Slains. Brenna’s life would be in danger until the earl was dead.

The time was past for running. And that was what he’d been doing. Running. From the prophecy. From himself.

For as long as he lived, he would hate himself for what he’d done that day his parents died.

But he would run no more.

The time had come to fight.

FIFTEEN