Chapter 19
Conall stared at thepiece of parchment in front of him. He’d been staring at it for the better part of twenty minutes and there were still only three or four words on it. The words were coded, of course, in case the letter fell into the wrong hands, but even so, he struggled to write any more.
The importance of this letter was not lost on him. In fact, it weighed on his shoulders as heavily as any burden he’d ever carried. Once this letter was sent, there was no going back. All ties with his past, with his former life, would be severed forever.
He scowled, clutching the quill so tightly that it snapped and he was forced to reach for another. Would that be such a bad thing? It had been many years since he’d had any dealings with his former life anyway, so wouldn’t a clean break be better for all concerned? If tonight’s dinner was anything to go by, then it most definitely would.
He sighed, threw the quill onto the desk beside the parchment and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his hands across his eyes.
He shouldn’t have agreed to go to that dinner. In fact, he shouldn’t have come back here at all. As soon as he and Molly had discovered the weapons being cached at his father’s new warehouse, they should have left and not looked back. He could have sent word to the Order of the Osprey as easily from Lanwick as he could from here. So why had he returned to the Pinnacle? Did some small part of him still find it so hard to leave this place behind?
He sprang to his feet and strode to the window. The guestroom he’d been provided was small—far smaller than Molly’s—and was another insult aimed in his direction.You’re not my son any longer,the insult said.You’re just a guest and only here on sufferance.
Well, so be it.
He stared out the window. The sun was starting to set. There were boats out on the lake and if he squinted into the waning light, he could make out people going about their evening in the village that hugged both banks of the river. Was James out there ferrying passengers across the loch? Was Annie sitting by her window, working her loom? For an instant, such a feeling of envy came across him that it was like he’d been punched in the stomach. What he wouldn’t give to have a life like theirs. A simple life, one filled with contentment and love.
His thoughts flew to Molly and he resolutely pushed her face from his mind. He sighed and turned to look back at the parchment. It was such a small thing, so innocuous, yet it would change Conall’s life forever.
Fine. His father had made his choices, now it was time for Conall to make his. He seated himself at the desk again and took up the quill.
But before he could write, there was a knock at the door. He quickly rolled the parchment and put it in a drawer then scraped back the chair, strode over to the door, and yanked it open. Molly was standing outside.
“Hi,” she said with a shrug. “Thought I’d drop by and see if you were okay.”
Conall’s breath caught and he found himself staring at her.
“Well?” Molly prompted. “Can I come in?”
Conall coughed and stepped back. “My apologies. Of course.”
She walked in past him and he shut the door behind her.
“Um, Molly,” he said, picking at a thread on the sleeve of his shirt. “I owe ye an apology. I shouldnae have stormed out and left ye like that. I behaved badly. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t say anything but just studied him with that intense, seemingly bottomless gaze of hers. Then she sighed. “As uncomfortable family dinners go, that was quite the humdinger, wasn’t it?”
“Humdinger?”
She waved a hand. “Nevermind. There’s no need to apologize—I know how fraught these things can be.”
“Ye shouldnae let me off the hook, Molly. I behaved like a spoilt brat.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you noticed that, did you?”
Despite himself, he barked a short laugh. “I guess maybe Oskar and Magnus are right and I really am a spoiled nobleman at heart.” The smile slid from his face. “But I am sorry.” He shrugged helplessly and gestured at the room. “Something about this place brings out the worst in me.”
She walked over to the window and leaned on the sill, looking out. Clouds were beginning to roll in down the hills that surrounded the loch, bringing with them a fog that would probably envelop the whole area once darkness set in.
Molly turned around, leaned back against the windowsill and crossed her arms. “I had an interesting talk with Adaira after you left.”
His hackles rose immediately. “Oh, did ye? And she told ye what a disappointment I am, no doubt?”
“She said nothing of the sort. Look, Conall, I don’t know what’s gone on between you all, but I do know how these things can be blown out of all proportion and twisted by anger and resentment. What happened between you and your family was a long time ago. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it in the past?”
“I would have been happy to do just that,” Conall replied, his anger rising. “I would have been happy to never see this cursed place again. But he decided to ally with Alba’s enemies. I canna let that slide, Molly. I took oaths to protect Alba, no matter who the enemy might me, no matter the cost to me. Ye saw what he’s stockpiling in that warehouse.”
“Yes, I did,” she agreed. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean what you think it means. When we’re looking for something, it’s easy to think we’ve found it, and disregard all other explanations, especially when there’s so much pent up resentment tied up with it.”
