True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse (21 page)

“Why? If you are such an inevitable choice of spouse as to expect the approval of Alexander of Kinfairlie, why would the hunter take the lady to her family abode? Why would a man who evidently dislikes the company of others ride south, where the lands are more populous? Kinfairlie is a considerable holding and a populous one. Why would he make haste to go there?”

“Perhaps the inducement is worth the inconvenience,” Orson said tightly. “But doubtless you believe he did otherwise.”

“He is a man of the forest. He would be more likely to take to the woods and hide her from all of us, at least until his claim was secured.” Stewart nodded at his own rationale. “He might take her to a refuge he knows well, a place where he feels secure.”

“You speculate and your speculation costs us time…”

“They rode the other way,” Stewart said with finality. “I will return to the last place I saw signs of Yseult and look again, more diligently. There was a fork in the road just before that place. I do not doubt they took to the forest to return to the other road.” He swung into his saddle. His concern for Annelise overwhelmed any possibility that Orson might accompany him. Indeed, Stewart believed the knight would take the easier route and continue to the south.

“You may ride as you wish, but I will seek the lady.” He did not wait for Orson’s decision, for truly, it would suit him well for the knight to continue to Kinfairlie. Stewart would prefer to be left to follow Lady Annelise himself, knowing there was one less knight in the environs of Seton Manor.

But that was not to be. His horse had not cantered a dozen steps before he heard the knight swear before barking a command at Percy.

Then the sound of two horses riding through the muddy road echoed behind him. Stewart did not care. He was too busy scanning the growth on either side of the road for signs of a horse’s passing.

He alone of the three was not surprised when he found it.

*

Garrett chose his words with care. Mhairi’s warning was clear in his mind. He appreciated that Annelise was curious and did not wish to have any secrets from her. The problem was that he was not certain how much of his truth he could tell her, not without putting her in danger. But Annelise was no fool: she had already guessed the nature of his curse, and perhaps she might guess the rest if he told his tale correctly.

He took care to mention naught of the Fae, their role or their powers.

He cleared his throat. “Once there was a noble warrior who won himself a holding through his valiant service to a king. This holding was in France, in the enchanted forest of Broceliande, although the knight did not believe the tales told of that place. As in the tale we heard last night, the men in this area prided themselves upon hunting wolves. When they killed a wolf, they roasted and ate its heart, for this was their tradition. This knight hunted a wolf, but he did so in the forest of Broceliande. He came upon a silver lady singing in the moonlight, as well, and lost his heart to her.”

“There is much similarity between the tales,” Annelise said when Garrett paused.

“Indeed.”

“Was the lady a Fae, as well, and one who could become a white wolf when she so chose?”

“That detail was not included in my mother’s tale,” Garrett said with care. “She said only that the lady’s song utterly beguiled the knight, and that he could not rest until he had won her as his wife.”

“Because she was Fae,” Annelise said with resolve. “And there was sorcery in her song.”

Garrett neither agreed nor disagreed. “When the knight courted her, she asked him to promise to never to look upon her at the full moon. When he made that pledge, she agreed to wed him.”

“And so they were wed, as in the other tale.”

“There was a healer in the knight’s abode who desired him to be her own husband.”

“As in the other.”

“But this healer had a daughter of her own. She wanted her daughter to be raised as a nobleman’s daughter, with every advantage and an inheritance besides. She had believed that she might win a place as the knight’s wife, for the healer was beautiful and the knight had looked upon her with favor. But once he had heard the lady sing in the forest, he forgot all about the healer and her charms.”

“Because he was enchanted by a Fae,” Annelise murmured.

Garrett shook his head. “I believe he was in love, not that the lady with the splendid voice enchanted him.”

Annelise smiled at that.

“And so, the knight brought home his lady and wedded her with great ceremony, and kept his pledge that he would never seek her companionship at the full moon. He thought little of this, for he did not believe in the Fae. He thought only that his wife had need of a measure of privacy. One night per month was a small concession in his view, for he wished his lady to be happy.”

“I like his ability to compromise,” Annelise said.

“The healer saw all of this and did not approve. Her heart became darker as her jealousy grew. She took note of every gift the knight gave to his lady and every courtesy he showed her, convincing herself that the lady had stolen all of this from her. The healer knew much of the lore of herbs and resolved to use her knowledge to aid her cause. When the knight’s mother spoke against the new bride, the healer seized her moment. The knight’s mother had believed that no woman would be of sufficient merit for her son, so the knight encouraged his mother to come to know his wife better. He knew her well enough to understand that her view would change in time. The healer also guessed this, so acted quickly. She provoked the mother to speak out in the hall, then gave her a potion that would make her ill. When the mother retired to her chamber, the healer would have had the new wife deliver the supposed antidote. The lady, though, refused to touch it.”

“For she could read the healer’s thoughts,” Annelise said with satisfaction and Garrett was proud of her perceptiveness. “She knew it was poison.”

“But the healer lied. She took the potion to the knight’s mother and loudly declared that the lady had given her the formula. She gave much credit to the lady for her generosity and confessed her lack of knowledge of these herbs. When the mother died, the healer did not have to accuse the new bride of killing her. Others were prepared to do so. There were some who distrusted the healer and others who turned against the knight’s lady, but the knight stood true by his lady wife.”

“I like also that his love was true,” Annelise said.

“The healer was most vexed in her failure to see the knight’s new lady condemned by all. When the knight’s wife ripened with child, the healer feared her daughter would be cheated of opportunity before it had been gained. She contrived to be the midwife at the child’s birth, and the knight agreed, for her skill in such matters was well known. The lady protested, but the knight insisted that he knew best, and so it was the two of them in the chamber. A great storm broke on that night, one that echoed the battle between lady and healer. For as the lady labored to bear the knight’s son, the healer endeavored to kill the child before he saw the light of day.”

“That is evil,” Annelise whispered in horror. “The storm must have been the forces of the Fae, mustered to defend one of their own.”

“Again, good triumphed, for the boy was uncommonly strong.”

“Because his mother was Fae,” Annelise interjected. “Are the Fae not said to be stronger than mortals?”

Garrett did not answer that, though he smiled. “When the boy gave his first cry, despite her efforts to ensure he never did as much, the healer knew she had to act quickly. The boy was as golden as sunlight, golden as his mother was silver, and the knight was much enamored of his new son. The healer feared that once the boy began to grow, he would eclipse all others in the knight’s affection and her daughter would be overlooked forever. She did not doubt that the knight would lavish attention upon both son and lady wife, and she burned to ensure that never occurred.”

“She planned to see the boy dismissed or discredited before he could defend himself,” she guessed, her view of that most clear. “She feared he could hear her thoughts and had to be rid of him before he was old enough to act upon them and defend himself.”

Garrett was delighted with Annelise’s conclusions, but dared not confirm that particular guess.

She nodded, untroubled by his silence. “And the best way to do that was to condemn his mother.”

“It seems most logical,” Garrett allowed.

“I hope this tale ends with her destruction,” Annelise muttered.

“And so, the healer noticed that the lady went to the forest alone on the nights of the full moon. No one knew what she did and the knight forbade any to follow her. His trust in his lady wife was complete. The healer vowed to change this. She followed the lady one moonlit night, but soon lost sight of her. In a clearing, she was confronted by a white wolf, a wolf with blue eyes.”

Before him, Annelise caught her breath, although Garrett could not guess why. He continued with his tale. “She thought she had lost the lady and her infant son, but then she saw that the wolf suckled an infant with golden hair. The healer could not get close to the wolf, for it snarled at her, but she had seen enough to guess what had happened to the lady.” Garrett bit his tongue, fearing he had said too much, but Annelise remained decidedly flesh and blood.

Indeed, she smiled at him, confident in her interpretation of the tale. “The lady had changed shape, as the Fae are wont to do.”

Garrett continued, endeavoring to take more care. “The knight did not believe any of the tales associated with the forest of Broceliande. The healer concocted a tale of more practical concern. She told of a marauding white wolf, falsely attributing crimes to it, and creating fear throughout the holding. She bade the knight not speak of this threat to his wife, lest she become frightened, and the knight agreed. She reminded him repeatedly that all knew that the lady went to the forest each month by herself and confessed a fear for her safety. By the end of a month, the healer had convinced him that the wolf must be hunted and killed to ensure the safety of his people. The healer suggested he go on the night of the full moon, the better to see his prey, and the knight agreed. He instructed his wife to remain in her chambers on that night and placed a lock upon the portal. He thought he would deny her once and guarantee her safety forever.”

“He cannot have killed his wife,” whispered Annelise. “Not in ignorance of what he did.”

“On the night of the next full moon, the knight armed himself and went into the forest alone to hunt the wolf. Unbeknownst to him, his lady went also to the forest with their son. It was not within her to remain at the knight’s abode when the full moon shone and she managed to escape her locked chamber. The healer followed the lady, but this time, when she lost sight of her, she sought the lady’s clothes. When she found the garments piled with care, she burned them to cinders, for she knew that the Fae had need of the clothes to change back to a lady. Then the healer returned to the knight’s holding to wait.”

Annelise gripped his arm, her fear for the lady most clear.

“For three days and three nights, the knight was absent. The wind was high all that time, slamming the shutters and whistling in the chinks. Those in the hall thought they would go mad with the constant sound, but suddenly the wind ceased. The knight returned home that very morning, weary and covered in blood. He carried the heart of a wolf, and he gave it to the cook to be prepared. He went to his lady’s chamber, full of anticipation, only to discover that she was gone, along with his son. The window was open and the wind blew into the room, which was devoid of life.

“Nay!” Annelise whispered.

“The knight sought his lady far and wide. He appealed to all who traveled through his holding, desperately seeking news of his wife and son. But she was gone, as surely as if she had never been. He became convinced that she had abandoned him because he had broken his vow, by confining her on that one moonlit night. From that day, no one ever saw a white wolf in Broceliande or the knight’s holding again. The healer drew close to the knight, comforting him in his grief, and after a year and a day, he took her to be his own wife. He adopted the daughter as his own. She bore him a son, and the knight made the boy his heir.”

“That is not just!” protested Annelise. “This tale is no better than the first.”

“It is said that the knight still goes into the forest alone on the night of the full moon, seeking his lady wife. It is said that a wolf can be heard to howl the night before the death of any soul at the knight’s estate. And it is said that one day, the knight’s first son will return to claim his rightful due, that his father will welcome him, and that justice will be served.”

Garrett fell silent, letting Annelise consider his tale. The rain had slowed to a silvery mist, and the road rose steadily before them. He wished they were miles farther, but knew Yseult had need of a rest. He could fairly hear Annelise thinking but remained silent, certain he had told her much.

“You can hear the thoughts of others because you are half-Fae,” she said, no real question in her tone. She twisted to consider him, her gaze searching his. “Are you this golden son, Garrett? Do we ride to see justice served?”

Garrett could not help but smile, though still he did not answer her directly. “I must have the right to ask for your hand. I must have a holding to my name.”