Page 35 of Cottage in the Mist
Frazier’s gaze followed the movement. “Seamus’s crest.” He frowned, his hand automatically closing on his dagger. “How came you by it, then? Yer father ne’re went anywhere without it.”
“The men who attacked Duncreag left it behind,” Bram said, swallowing bitter bile. “We found it in the aftermath. A message, I’m guessing.”
“Aye.” Frazier nodded, his face still flushed with anger as his eyes fell to the parchment on the table. “Proof that the bastards killed yer father. And that if you dinna stop them first, they’ll find a way to kill you, too.”
“Which is why we have to concentrate on our next move,” Bram said, his fingers still touching the cool metal of the crest. “You have the right of it, Frazier. Whatever path we choose, my father must be avenged.”
“Well, you canna come in this way and expect to meet with success.” He pointed to the west on the map, the place they’d marked for their approach. “There’s an outpost here. And Alec will certainly have made sure that it is fully manned.”
“But they’ll be expecting us to attack from Dunbrae.”
“Mayhap. And they’ll no doubt be watching that way as well. But they know that you’re no’ there. And that you’ve no support from that quarter. Yer uncle is no’ interested in retribution. Or in you. So they’ll be watching for other places as well.”
“But the rest of the valley is guarded by mountains. Best I remember, there’s no way through at all,” Bram argued.
“Aye.” Frazier smiled, his eyes narrowing in triumph. “So it would seem. But, ye forget, yer father and I grew up in these mountains. ’Tis my feeling we should come in here.” He pointed to an area in the northeast.
“But—“ Bram began in protest.
“You think it looks impassible, I know. But, that’s where yer wrong, lad.” Frazier tapped a weathered finger on the map. “There’s a passage of sorts here. A narrow twist of a pathfollowing alongside a burn. Seamus and I used it when we were no older than you, Bram. For reiving, ye ken. It’ll be the perfect approach. They’ll ne’er see it coming.”
12
It was an impossibly normal day, which on the face of it was ridiculous. Maybe it was the company or maybe it was the beauty of the surrounding fields and mountains, but whatever the reason, for the first time since she’d learned of her parents’ deaths, Lily felt as if life might actually go on.
Which immediately made her feel guilty.
She’d lost everything. Her family. Her home. Her fiancé. Or at least the idea of him. And yet, here in Scotland she’dfoundsomething as well.Hope. Although, truth be told, it was fleeting at best, impossibly insane at worst.
Lily sighed, closing her eyes against the enormity of it all.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it now,” Elaine said, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to cover Lily’s, “but things have a way of working out.”
“Aye, that they do.” Mrs. Abernathy nodded sagely from the back seat as they barreled along in Elaine’s tiny car.
They’d spent the morning combing through the records in Dunmaglass. First at the vicarage and then at the little museum that passed as an historical society. Unfortunately, they’d come away with little to show for it. A notation of Bram’s birth, and arecord of his service as a page as a small boy. There was also a record of his father’s death, but no details, and nothing at all of Dunbrae. It was as if the place had never existed.
Lily tipped her head back with a sigh.
“’Twas a long time ago,” Mrs. Abernathy said, accurately guessing her turn of thought. “’Tis no’ surprising that there is nothing more. Events recorded centered around the heads of the clans. The smaller lairdships were no’ often documented well. And when the clans lost power and scattered, what records that existed were often abandoned or lost. ’Tis lucky we found anything at all.”
“And at least we did manage to confirm that Bram existed,” Elaine soothed.
“Yeah. Over five hundred years ago.” What remained of Lily’s spontaneous burst of happiness evaporated. She knew she sounded defensive, which was inexcusable when she considered that her new friends were driving across the Highlands on her behalf. But it seemed like such a lost cause. She was chasing a man long dead.
How was that any better than accepting Justin when in her heart she’d known he wasn’t the one? She’d settled because she’d wanted so much to find what her parents had had. To be loved exclusively. Above all else. What a laugh. Justin hadn’t lovedher. He’d loved her money. She’d just been too blind to see. Hungry for attention. Desperate for love.
And wasn’t that what she was doing now? Pretending that what had happened with Bram was something more than it was? She laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet of the car.
“Sometimes you just have to believe,” Mrs. Abernathy said, again reading her mind. “Have a little faith.”
“Easy to say when you have Mr. Abernathy. I don’t seem to be quite as adept at making good choices.” Lily’s fingers closedon the cool silver of the ring her mother had given her father, her heart swelling with guilt and grief.
“Justin was a fool,” Elaine said.
“Maybe. But even if that’s true, I was as big of one. I believed he loved me.”
“Sometimes the heart sees only what it wants to see.” As usual, Mrs. Abernathy hit the nail on the head.
