Neither visions nor feelings assaulted her immediately, so she sat back on her knees, leaning against the chest. She slid the hook over her finger, the sharp edge lying against the back of her finger so it was less likely to puncture her should the vision become violent. She then pressed her palms together as if praying and closed her eyes.
She focused on Philip, together with his sister. A scene slowly crystallized behind her eyelids. Philip as a young man—handsome still, but leaner, all hands and legs, his hair long as the Highlanders wore it. He wore a plaid, too—his feet bare. He was on the beach with a young girl, and they scoured the sand for sand eels, laughing as they chased after them. She smiled at this, but knew she must dig deeper. She focused on the girl, asking the hook to tell her more—What became of the girl? Where is she now?
The scene on the beach clouded over. She strained to see through it. As the mist slowly cleared she found herself in a house.It was warm and rosy with firelight, redolent with the scent of lamb stew. A woman sat before the hearth, her belly round with child, sewing a wean’s gown. Isobel knew immediately it was Effie. A woman. Isobel dug deeper—where was she?
She instinctively sensed the woman’s happiness—also that the woman no longer went by Effie, but Isobel could not grasp what her name was now. She felt it began with an “S”—Starla or Sunny—but she could not be certain. Then she was drawn rapidly away, until she was outside the house, above it. She saw a church, and many buildings. This was not a little hamlet but a good-sized town. The farther she was pulled back, the more she saw, until she was above it, as if suspended like an angel. Walls surrounded the town, and in the distance was a group of ancient cairns on a hill.
She focused on the town, and it drew her in like a fishing line.Where is this? What is its name?The town’s name was clear to her now, and with it came more information, in a flood. “Wyndyburgh. Rose Lane, fourth house on the right. She goes by Summer. She’s married to the cooper and expecting a child in…June, she believes.”
Isobel tried to dig deeper but only returned to visions of Effie and Philip on the beach as children. But she had enough to lead him to his sister. She opened her eyes, a wide smile on her face, and found Philip staring at her in horrified disbelief.
She looked down at the hook, still wrapped around her finger. She handed it to him, stained with a drop of her blood. “Your sister is alive and well, and quite content in her life.”
When he didn’t take the hook from her, she took his hand and placed it in his palm. “Go to her. I was unable to discover how you lost her, but she’ll tell you…if she remembers. She doesn’t go by Effie anymore, so I don’t know how much she remembers of her life here. She was only six when you…when she was lost.”
He stared down at the hook in his hand.
Isobel placed her palm against his cheek. “This is real, Philip. I wouldn’t lie.”
“I know.” The words were said so softly that she almost missed them.
She hesitated, wanting to say more, to do more. The idea of leaving him now—of going to her betrothed while he went to find his sister—tore at her. She wanted them to see this through together. She wanted to be there when he saw Effie again. “Take me with you,” she said impulsively. “We can go to Lochlaire after.”
He shook his head against her hand, still staring down at the hook. When she would have drawn her hand away his came up, covering it, holding it against his face.
“You must go home.” His lips moved against her sensitive skin, so soft, and the rasp of his beard tickled her. His breath was warm against her, sending a shiver of pleasure throughout her body, weakening her.
“What if you get there, and she remembers nothing?”
“Then at least I’ll have found her.”
Isobel’s other hand came up, holding his face, forcing him to look at her. “We both know that will never be enough for you. There, her things will surround her. Iwillbe able to discover what happened—I vow it.”
The eyes he raised to hers were bright, and her heart felt swollen and bruised from the emotion she saw there. He did care.He did.
He swallowed hard, his throat working. The thick dark lashes fell as he closed his eyes. “No. It’s too dangerous. Wyndyburgh is near where it all began—it spread from there like fire. They’ve burned more witches than any other area. I can’t take you there.”
Isobel smiled. “I will not be in danger, so long as I’m with you. I trust you to protect me. And I’ll keep my gloves on. I promise.”
He still shook his head, his eyes shut hard, but she knew she had won. He would still protest, but she would wear him down. She had to do this, had to finish it with him. She had to reunite him with his sister and make certain all of his questions were answered. Only then could she go on to her new life, letting go of this one.
His arms slid around her and crushed her against him. Her breath left her as she clung to him, holding him and the moment close. Something cracked inside, exquisitely painful, and Isobel knew it was her heart.
Colin stood on the bottom step, pressed against the stone wall. From the walls of Sgor Dubh he’d watched Philip and Mistress MacDonell’s return from the island and had come down with the intention of berating his half brother for his careless stupidity—taking a boat out in the dark with a storm coming. If he cared for nothing else, he should at least think of Father’s boat. But Colin had been halted on the bottom step by the scene he’d found in the cave.
Philip and Mistress MacDonnell had left the boat, only to stand there, staring at each other with such longing Colin almost felt compelled to avert his eyes. Almost. He’d hidden in the shadows, determined to glean as much information as he could, to use later to blackmail Philip if it became necessary. It was just as Colin had suspected—there was something between his brother and Isobel MacDonell, something he could report to Earl Kincreag if necessary. But the rest, when they’d moved to the chest…that had shaken him to the core. He hurried back up the steps, trying to step quietly, his mind racing.
Isobel MacDonell was the daughter of a powerful chieftain and one did not make accusations idly—retribution would surely follow. Colin had only called her a witch to annoy Philip, knowing his brother would never tell Alan MacDonell. But now…it seemed Philipwasconsulting with a witch—a crime nearly as grievous as being one.
If that wasn’t shocking enough—it got worse. Mairi’s daughter was alive. Colin didn’t even want to consider what this meant for him. If Philip returned Mairi’s daughter to her, he would have no reason to stay away from Sgor Dubh. Mairi would finally forgive him. And Philip would happily accept his inheritance, leaving Colin with nothing.
Colin entered the keep, and the dogs ran to him, jumping and licking. He shoved them away, impatient. Something must be done, and before Dougal or Mairi learned that Effie lived. And he must find a way to end Philip and Mistress MacDonell’s affair before something dreadful happened—if Philip got her with child, his honor would compel him to marry her, and if that child was a boy…Colin’s head pounded from the possibilities, and he pressed his fingers against his eyelids to relieve the pain. It felt as if everything he’d worked for was about to be demolished by this MacDonell woman. Hemustdo something, but he didn’t yet know what.
Then he remembered the messenger that had arrived that morning—just before Philip. Colin had managed to get his hands on the missive before his father had read it. It had been from the elders in some village—something about a murder and needing Philip’s presence for the trial. They also requested theseer’spresence. The seer had to be Isobel MacDonell. Dougal had burned the letter after reading it—muttering about hysterical elders, but Colin remembered the town’s name. Hawkirk.
Isobel MacDonell was certainly a witch, and if there were already accusations leveled against either Philip or MistressMacDonell, it wouldn’t take much to turn the tide against them—even without the witch’s presence. If they believed Philip had been consulting with a witch, his fate was sealed. The past few years had seen many folk burned for that crime.
He smiled, rubbing his hands together. He would need help. He would have to find Niall and Aidan—they would do whatever he asked, so long as he promised them rewards. Pleased with himself and this new development, he left the castle to fetch his brothers.
