Instead, it was cursed. Culminating in a tragic end when we only wanted a future together. Our blood lives on. Mayhap ’tis ye. We fought for a future we wanted to see. We wanted to live. But ’twas lost tous.
Mayhap ye are the one to bring us together onceagain.
With the hope, love, and understanding we had always wishedfor.’
Her eyes met his. “It sounds like they did not have a happy ending.” Her voice was sad. Quiet.
“I agree, Lass.”
He opened his arms and she walked into them, nuzzling into his chest. For some reason, he felt the need to offer her comfort.
“It’s as if they kenned they would fail, but they pushed on anyhow,” Moira’s voice cracked. “But ’twas all for naught in the end.”
He stroked her hair as she worked through the emotions the story elicited. “They had hope. Sometimes, Lass, that is all that we have.”
Moira pushed away from him. “Now, ’tis up to us. We are the hope that can bring their story to light.”
Squeezing her tighter, he nodded. “Come on, let us sit for a bit. ’Tis been a trying day.”
He pulled her to the wall and they both sank down to the ground, the coolness of the stone floor seeping through his trews.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “What do ye think happened to them?”
“I dinna ken. ’Twas many, many years ago.” She swept her hand along the dirt, unveiling a carved seal. Sitting up, she swept the remainder of the dirt away. “Errol, look.”
The seal was once again a blending of the Hart and MacLeod. This time, carved into the seal, was one animal—half stag, half lion—brought together to combine as one. The two prominent animals of their clans.
Moira ran her fingers along the carving, and he leaned back against the wall, resting his arm on his knee.
One thing was for certs. Their history had been built upon a lie.
Now, they just needed to uncover it.
Chapter Fourteen
Moira stood upsuddenly. “We havenae searched all the recesses. There may be other items to find.”
Moving to the recess nearest the one she found the letter in, she stuck her hand in and found naught but a handful of spiderwebs. Again.
She shuddered as she cleared the sticky webbing from her fingers. She hated spiders. She had her brothers to thank for that. They used to put spiders on her pillow when they were young, finding it hilarious when Moira would run screaming from her bedchamber.
It terrified Moira and she usually spent those nights wide-awake with her candle sweeping the space of her bedchamber just to see if there were any more of them wandering about in her room.
The next recess was also empty. As was the next.
But when she stuck her hand in the one after that, her fingers came into contact with something hard and wooden. She felt around the space. She had found a small chest. Her breath caught in her throat. Was this it? Was this the treasure they sought?
“Ye found something?” Errol asked from where he remained sitting on the floor watching her.
“’Tis a chest,” she answered as she pulled it out into the light. It was quite heavy considering its small size.
That got Errol to his feet, and he quickly approached to assist.
The chest was small, with a hinged iron latch keeping it closed.
“Here, allow me.”
“I am no’ going to allow ye to take hold of the treasure,” she snapped.
