Nicholas fussed with the sling, staring at his handiwork with displeasure. “Your sister may have to reset this.”
“We’re not really married, are we?”
Nicholas looked up quickly and followed her gaze. His jaw hardened. “No.”
“What will happen to her?”
“I’ll take her to Edinburgh, where she’ll answer for her crimes. She will likely be executed. But if for some reason she isn’t, I will divorce her. The law is clear in matters of adultery and desertion, not to mention infanticide.”
Gillian’s eyes widened. “She admitted to it.”
He gave a curt nod.
Gillian’s heart ached for him, and she wished there were something she could say to make it better. But she knew there was nothing. She leaned against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nicholas.”
He slid an arm around her and touched her cheek, sliding his fingers down to trace the marks the rope had left on her neck. “You can undo it now, if you wish. If you don’t want me. Our marriage never was.”
Gillian closed her eyes, turning her face into his plaid. She didn’t want to think of this now. She justwanted to sink into his arms and forget this awful day, pretend everything was fine in their world. But that was impossible. The matter lay between them, the wounds still raw.
“What do you want?” she asked softly, afraid of his answer. “A wife or a prisoner?”
“I want a witch. I want you.”
She looked up quickly in surprise and disbelief and unbearable happiness.
He smiled at her expression. “Will you marry me again?”
“Aye. And again and again.”
22
Castle Kincreag seemed an empty, cavernous labyrinth with Nicholas gone. It had been nearly a fortnight since he’d left for Edinburgh to turn Catriona over to the king’s justice. After the raid, Gillian’s sisters had returned to Kincreag, relieved to find her safe. Sir Philip had lost some men, but thankfully he and Stephen had sustained only minor injuries. Rose did not stay on, returning to Glen Laire and their father, but Sir Philip and Isobel were to remain at Kincreag until Nicholas returned.
Before leaving, Rose had lectured Gilchrist on how to care for Gillian’s arm properly. It was improving, but would be at least another week before she could take it out of the sling.
“Do you remember it now?” Isobel asked one afternoon as they strolled through the garden. “Mother’s death?” Isobel watched her, silver-green eyes anxious,fearful of what Gillian would say but unable to curb her curiosity any longer.
Gillian had spent so long avoiding the memory, both consciously and unconsciously, that it hadn’t immediately occurred to her to try to recall it. But over the past few days she’d begun to think about it rather cautiously. She cast her mind back to the day her mother had been lynched and burned, and her own frantic flight back up the mountain pass.
She’d fallen and had been lying on the ground crying. She’d seen the smoke, and even at ten years old she’d known what it meant, but her heart had refused to accept it. She’d felt a soft breeze across her cheek, almost a caress, and had looked up. “Mum?”
Her mother had stood beside her, smiling down at her. She’d shimmered and wavered in the sunlight, the mountainside visible through her body.
“I have to go now,” she’d said. “They’re at the light, calling to me. I’ll see you there. But not now.”
Gillian had cried for her mother not to leave her, but Lillian had turned away, her face glowing with wonder as she’d looked at something behind her. Then she was gone. Gillian had been hysterical when she’d finally been found, babbling about her mother and ghosts. Alan had taken his men and raced to her rescue. But it had been too late; her mother was dead. He’d not returned for weeks, intent on his fruitless hunt for the culprit. Uncle Roderick had recovered Lillian’s ring and given it to Gillian—a remembrance.
Gillian’s finger twitched as she looked down at her bare hand. “I lost the ring.”
“The ring?”
“Mother’s ring, the one I always wore. I removed it on the ledge after I fell.”
Isobel took her hand and squeezed it. “It doesn’t matter. You have the true gift she gave you, and that’s more important than a piece of metal.”
“Aye, but it doesn’t explain why someone cursed me.” After a long moment, Gillian reluctantly gave voice to what truly troubled her. “Rose’s counter curse didn’t work. I made the connection while I lay on the cliff ledge. When I removed the ring, the pain in my head disappeared and has not returned. It was the ring.”
“Someone cursed the ring?” Isobel breathed, eyes wide. “Who could have done that?”
