"I appreciate that. Come, let's go to the keep and get out of this snow," Colin announced. "You must all be tired and hungry."
Kristina was disappointed, but not surprised, that he hadn't come closer and spoken to her, to allow her to express her condolences. Inching her line of sight upward, Kristina allowed herself to look directly at Colin's back as he walked away, toward the Cameron horses, his guards following.
Colin's shoulders were broad, but now slumped, as if the weight of the world rested upon them. She understood how he felt, for she had lost her own father a few years ago. Everything had changed after that. Not only had she lost her dear sweet da but also her home, when a distant relative had inherited and asked her and Anna to leave.
Now she wanted to be here for Colin. She wished she could hold him and comfort him in some way. But she was unsure whether he would even want it.
They rode the short distance through the snow and toward the castle's portcullis, which was quickly raised, and into the bailey.
Kristina admired the way Colin's tawny hair gleamed in the torchlight, lying upon his shiny chainmail armor. What an extraordinary man he was. She prayed that he would forgive her and accept her back into his life.
They halted, and all the men began dismounting. Neacal helped Anna to the ground and then Kristina.
The bailey was so crowded, she did not know where Colin was. She wanted to speak to him forthwith, to let him know her vision had returned before someone else told him, and before he figured it out.
Anna spoke beside her, "I'm sorry for the loss of your beloved da, Colin."
"I thank you."
Kristina stood frozen in surprise, for she hadn't known he was so near. She wanted to look at him so badly, but dared not yet, not until she could tell him of the miracle. With her eyes still closed, lingering in the safety of the familiar darkness, Kristina waited, tears flooding her eyes and trailing down her cheeks, growing icy in the cold wind.
"Lady Kristina, I thank you for coming." Colin's hard, dark voice was so close in front of her. Dare she look at him now? Her heart thundered with fear.
She reached a trembling hand out to him and he took it. "I'm so sorry, Colin." Sorry for everything. Sorry he'd lost his father and that she'd broken his heart.
He kissed her gloved hand "Shh, don't cry, lass," he whispered, then walked away.
"Wait," she called out, but he didn't. "I must tell him now," Kristina whispered to Anna. "I don't wish him to hear it from someone else, nor discover me staring at him."
"Colin," Anna called out, then waved.
"Just a minute."
"He is speaking to Warton," Anna whispered. "I'm sure he will be here in a moment."
At least he had spoken to her with kindness and kissed her hand, but Kristina still felt unworthy of him. He should have a beautiful, perfect bride, someone with unmarred skin. But every time she thought of that, she wanted to rip the hair from the perfect lass she visualized in her mind. Apparently, she had a possessive side she'd never known about until now. Aye, she wanted Colin for her very own. But she also wanted the best for him. She wished him a happy life and didn't know if she would make him happy. She did not want to disappoint him. What if his clan could not look at her scarred face without feeling disgust? What if they hated her?
What if Colin never trusted her again?
***
Striding across the bailey, Colin felt an intense mixture of emotions such as he'd never felt before, not the least of which was anger at himself. Why couldn't he simply ignore Kristina? Why did he allow her to affect him so profoundly?
He could hardly believe she was here. One part of him wanted to talk to her longer, to find out why she'd come. Another part dreaded the moment. His heart thudded with excitement as he approached the two ladies. Anna watched him, but as he drew near, she moved toward Neacal a few yards away. Clearly, she wished to give them privacy, but he was unsure if he wanted it. He could not allow himself to be drawn under Kristina's spell again. He had to keep his wits about him, stay sharp, and catch Red Holme as soon as possible.
But, hell… Kristina looked even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her. She wore a dark cloak with a cowl over her head. The snowflakes sparkled in the torchlight.
"You wished to speak to me, m'lady?" Not wanting her to know how she disturbed him, he tried to keep his voice impersonal.
She raised her head, and their gazes locked. What the devil? Her eyes were not vacant or staring into the ether. Saints, but she was looking at him! He frowned as he searched her eyes… and she searched his. Though tears glistened on her lashes, she watched him closely. The sensation was so startling, he felt as if a cannonball dropped onto his stomach. Had she deceived him the entire time? Had she been able to see from the first?
"Can you see?" he blurted.
"Aye, 'tis what I've come to tell you, Colin, along with paying my respects."
"How? When?" His voice was perhaps more demanding than he'd intended.
"'Tis either a miracle or a reaction to that last blow to the head Holme gave me. A few days after my headache went away, just after you left, I saw a flash of light, and then candle flames. Each day since then, my vision has improved."
