the near future. God,
Deliah, I pounded on him! Bit him. Kicked him." She lowered her
voice. "I threatened to castrate him with that damn
dirk."
Deliah smiled ruefully.
"Tis no surprise now why the poor mon didna want to remain in the
house."
Although Deliah's tone was
light, almost playful, her words cut into Beth's conscience. "This
isn't right, Deliah. I shouldn't be in here feeling miserable, and
he out there— God, he has to be freezing without a coat! Why has he
gone to the graves? Is he some kind of masochist or
what?"
"Today be March
twenty-third, the day o' his dying so long ago."
Stunned, Beth turned to
face Deliah. "He was murdered on March twenty-third?"
"Aye. I dinna think he
realizes the date. Subconsciously, mayhaps."
"Tessa drove the dirk into
his heart, and I threatened— Oh, God," Beth ended on a groan. "I
didn't know! His headstone only has the year!"
"I wasna aware maself till
Winston and I started talkin’ abou' a date to marry. Now I
wonder...."
"What?" Beth asked
anxiously.
Deliah gave a weary lift of
her shoulders. "Tis no' for me to make excuses for him, but...the
timin’ o' yer return couldna have been worse, aye? So close to his
daith date, I mean. I be no expert on the ways o' the human mind,
but tis a fair guess his subconscious is dwellin’ on tha'
night."
She forlornly gazed through
the window. "Now he be ou' there, cold and alone, as was he tha'
night when he was removed from the tower. I shouldna have
interfered wi' his passin’ on, Beth, but I couldna stop
maself."
Trembling with an onslaught
of tears, Beth could say nothing.
"No word or action," Deliah
said softly, placing a hand on Beth's shoulder, "should put asunder
a love wha' transcends time and space, and this world and
anither."
Beth shook her head
miserably.
"I know ye fairly weel,
Beth. It no' be in yer heart to isolate yerself from him." Deliah
sighed. "I must return to Winston, but it saddens me to leave ye
alone at this time."
"What do I say to him?"
Beth asked, placing her fingertips against the cold
panes.
"Tha' would be up to ye.
Twould be a blessin’ upon this house and all it has stood for,
though, if we all were to lie wi’in our lovers' arms, and ward off
the cold wi' the heat o' our bodies."
Beth nervously moistened
her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "I don't think I could
keep myself together if he turned me away, Deliah."
The Faerie princess
released a scoffing chuff. "Do ye really believe he
would?"
"I...don't
know."
"I tell ye he willna. The
babes be asleep. I promise to listen for them while ye give this
date a new meanin’ for yer mon. Dinna be afraid. Aye, our Lachlan
has his faults, but would ye really have him change?"
Beth laughed a bit
unsteadily. "No. No! Not one iota! He can be so infuriating, but
it's—I must be nuts—what I first loved about him." She glanced at
the door, at Deliah then lit into a run. "See you in the
morning!"
C hapter 3
Barefoot and only wearing
her torn nightgown, Beth dashed into the night. She was soaked
before she rounded the house, and numb by the time she reached the
woods. Nonetheless, she hastened along the path to the field,
thoughts of Lachlan's arms enveloping her all that kept her
going.
The field seemed unusually
long, the oak inordinately far. She slowed her pace when she was
close enough to see that he was on his knees in front of her
headstone and arced slightly to her right until she could see his
fingertips touching the engraved lettering on the granite. She
stood not more than five feet from him, lapping at the wetness on
her lips. The rain tasted sweet and somehow reviving. Shudders
coursed through her, but she didn't care.
Soon....
"When there is too much to
forgive, wha' does tha' leave a mon to do?" he said in a low, husky
voice. "I canna live wi’ou' you, Beth, nor can I die. I've no way
to know how to make up for the wrongs."
Beth slowly positioned
herself on the opposite side of her headstone, where she could
Deliah, I pounded on him! Bit him. Kicked him." She lowered her
voice. "I threatened to castrate him with that damn
dirk."
Deliah smiled ruefully.
"Tis no surprise now why the poor mon didna want to remain in the
house."
Although Deliah's tone was
light, almost playful, her words cut into Beth's conscience. "This
isn't right, Deliah. I shouldn't be in here feeling miserable, and
he out there— God, he has to be freezing without a coat! Why has he
gone to the graves? Is he some kind of masochist or
what?"
"Today be March
twenty-third, the day o' his dying so long ago."
Stunned, Beth turned to
face Deliah. "He was murdered on March twenty-third?"
"Aye. I dinna think he
realizes the date. Subconsciously, mayhaps."
"Tessa drove the dirk into
his heart, and I threatened— Oh, God," Beth ended on a groan. "I
didn't know! His headstone only has the year!"
"I wasna aware maself till
Winston and I started talkin’ abou' a date to marry. Now I
wonder...."
"What?" Beth asked
anxiously.
Deliah gave a weary lift of
her shoulders. "Tis no' for me to make excuses for him, but...the
timin’ o' yer return couldna have been worse, aye? So close to his
daith date, I mean. I be no expert on the ways o' the human mind,
but tis a fair guess his subconscious is dwellin’ on tha'
night."
She forlornly gazed through
the window. "Now he be ou' there, cold and alone, as was he tha'
night when he was removed from the tower. I shouldna have
interfered wi' his passin’ on, Beth, but I couldna stop
maself."
Trembling with an onslaught
of tears, Beth could say nothing.
"No word or action," Deliah
said softly, placing a hand on Beth's shoulder, "should put asunder
a love wha' transcends time and space, and this world and
anither."
Beth shook her head
miserably.
"I know ye fairly weel,
Beth. It no' be in yer heart to isolate yerself from him." Deliah
sighed. "I must return to Winston, but it saddens me to leave ye
alone at this time."
"What do I say to him?"
Beth asked, placing her fingertips against the cold
panes.
"Tha' would be up to ye.
Twould be a blessin’ upon this house and all it has stood for,
though, if we all were to lie wi’in our lovers' arms, and ward off
the cold wi' the heat o' our bodies."
Beth nervously moistened
her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "I don't think I could
keep myself together if he turned me away, Deliah."
The Faerie princess
released a scoffing chuff. "Do ye really believe he
would?"
"I...don't
know."
"I tell ye he willna. The
babes be asleep. I promise to listen for them while ye give this
date a new meanin’ for yer mon. Dinna be afraid. Aye, our Lachlan
has his faults, but would ye really have him change?"
Beth laughed a bit
unsteadily. "No. No! Not one iota! He can be so infuriating, but
it's—I must be nuts—what I first loved about him." She glanced at
the door, at Deliah then lit into a run. "See you in the
morning!"
C hapter 3
Barefoot and only wearing
her torn nightgown, Beth dashed into the night. She was soaked
before she rounded the house, and numb by the time she reached the
woods. Nonetheless, she hastened along the path to the field,
thoughts of Lachlan's arms enveloping her all that kept her
going.
The field seemed unusually
long, the oak inordinately far. She slowed her pace when she was
close enough to see that he was on his knees in front of her
headstone and arced slightly to her right until she could see his
fingertips touching the engraved lettering on the granite. She
stood not more than five feet from him, lapping at the wetness on
her lips. The rain tasted sweet and somehow reviving. Shudders
coursed through her, but she didn't care.
Soon....
"When there is too much to
forgive, wha' does tha' leave a mon to do?" he said in a low, husky
voice. "I canna live wi’ou' you, Beth, nor can I die. I've no way
to know how to make up for the wrongs."
Beth slowly positioned
herself on the opposite side of her headstone, where she could
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