Page 4 of Forever My Lass

She wanted more time. She wanted to talk about the birds her grandmother loved to identify from her kitchen window. She wanted to hear her grandmother warbling at the piano and sit next to her as they sang a duet. She wanted more texts of red hearts. There were so many things she wanted, but with an overwhelming sense of loss, she knew she wouldn’t ever have those things again.

Days had dwindled to hours, and Madeline knew it wouldn’t be long now. Her harbor of safety, warmth, and love was about to vanish, and her deepening grief would batter her in the same way the rocks had the ship in her dreams.

Chapter 2

Muchalls, Scotland

August 1896

Iain Fraser, Baron of Glenburnie, growled in frustration as he rubbed his forehead in an attempt to stave off the migraine hovering on the edge of his senses. It didn’t matter how many times he calculated the figures. Unless Destiny’s Dream arrived safely in Aberdeen in a few days with his cargo, he would be forced to do the unthinkable.

He would have to either sell some of his lands to that smug bastard, Robert Lindsay, or ask Andrew for a loan. Neither prospect was a palpable one. A well-known philanthropist in America, his cousin Andrew would send money without hesitation the moment Iain asked for a loan.

It didn’t help that his cousin would insist on making it a gift. Even if he convinced Andrew to extend a line of credit, his cousin would make the interest rate so low it would still be more of a gift than a debt to repay. Iain released another snarl of anger as he threw his pen down with suppressed violence.

The throbbing in his head grew stronger, and closing his eyes, he leaned back into his leather desk chair. The soft squeak of his study door made Iain peer through the slits of his eyes to see who had dared to enter his sanctuary without knocking. He saw Grace studying him in silence.

“What is it, Grace?”

“Faither, I…I…”

The hesitation in Grace’s soft voice made him open his eyes to see a look of fear on his daughter’s face. Concern immediately flooded through him.

“What is it, Grace? Is it Ainslie? What has she done now?”

Iain suppressed the groan of pain threatening to escape him as his oldest daughter by mere minutes rushed toward his desk with a vehement shake of her head.

“Oh, nae, Faither. Ainslie has nae done anything. But I…I am…”

The moment Grace’s voice trailed off, Iain gestured for his daughter to come to his side. The throbbing in his head increased as he saw the fear on the girl’s sweet face. Iain swallowed hard as he fought through the pain.

“It’s all right, lass. Is it the an dara sealladh?”

“Aye. I cannae…”

Whatever his daughter had seen, it had troubled her deeply. It was unlike her to show fear at a vision she’d seen. Even more worrisome was how pale his daughter looked. He couldn’t remember ever having seen her so upset, and her expression heightened his concern. If there was one thing he couldn’t protect his daughter from, it was the an dara sealladh.

“There’s nothing tae fear, mo nighean dubh. Just tell me what ye saw.” Just as he had when she was a baby, he lapsed into the soft, lilting brogue he’d learned to control years ago at Glenalmond College.

“A ship. I saw a ship sinking. And there was a lady.”

The moment Grace mentioned a ship, Iain’s muscles tighten. If it had been Destiny’s Dream his daughter had seen in her vision, then it meant he would be forced to do what he didn’t want to do. He would have to sell land or ask Andrew for a loan. He tried not to think the worst. Instead, he reminded himself that the an dara sealladh came to Grace in images that were all mixed together and sometimes completely unrelated.

“She was verra pretty, Faither, but she was…she was drowning, and I could nae help her. I dinnae want her to die.” Sadness and fear in his daughter’s voice made him pull her toward him, then wrap his arm around her slender frame.

“Dinnae ye fash, lass. Ye know the an dara sealladh is nae always reliable. Ye know it never shows ye everything.”

“I ken, but the lady was frightened, and…”

The pounding in Iain’s head would soon become blinding, but the emotion he saw flash in Grace’s violet eyes made him push through the pain to focus his full attention on his daughter. The child wasn’t just upset by what she’d seen. She was terrified.

“It’s all right, lass. Ye ken that sharing what ye have seen helps ye not be afraid.”

“Nae…Faither. It is…I saw Ainslie…she was with the lady.” Grace stammered her words in an almost inaudible whisper.

“In the water?” Iain choked out the words as fear scraped away at his insides, before an invisible sledgehammer hit first one temple and then another.

“Nae,” Grace said with a sharp shake of her head. “But the lady was drowning, and Ainslie was crying. Ainslie never cries.”