Page 50 of Cottage in the Mist
She laid her hand on his arm. “It wasn’t easy for us either, Bram. There was far more than just the eight years of separation. We had enemies to fight as well. One of them almost destroyed me in the process. Which meant that when it mattered most, Iain had to let me go. He had to send me back to my own time.”
“Aye, and it was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.” Iain’s deep voice echoed over the battlements as he came to stand behind his wife. His arms circled her waist and Katherine leaned back against him. “But even though I thought I’d lost her forever, I knew I’d chosen true.”
“And he moped around here like there was no tomorrow despite all his blustering.” Ranald laughed as he joined the group at the wall.
“Well, what did you expect, man? I’d lost my own true love.” Iain wagged his eyebrows at his cousin, and Katherine’s eyes sparkled with laughter.
Bram felt a wave of jealousy. He’d held his love in his arms and now he’d lost her. Possibly forever.
“Faith, Bram,” Katherine repeated. “No one said it would be easy. But believe me, it’s worth the effort.”
He nodded, staring off into the distance, then with a sharp exhale of breath turned to his kin, forcing himself to face his greatest fear. “I went back.”
The others waited in silence.
“In the end I couldna do it. I couldna walk away. So I went back.” He closed his eyes, fists clenched as he remembered. “But I was too late. The cottage was empty. Lily was gone.”
“Perhaps for the best?” Ranald queried. “We do have a battle to fight.”
Katherine tensed in Iain’s arms.
“No worries, my love,” he said, his arms tightening around her. “We’ve fought in worse battles and won.”
“I know.” Katherine sighed, then squared her shoulders and lifted her head to kiss her husband’s cheek. “And the sooner we get the lot of you on your way, the sooner you’ll all come back to me.” Her words included Ranald and Bram, but her eyes were only for Iain.
He bent to kiss her. “All will be well, I promise.”
“See that it is,” she admonished, pushing away the fear that had surfaced momentarily in her eyes. “And you,” she added, turning to Bram, “as I said, have a little faith. What’s to be is meant to be. But as a dear friend of mine used to say, everything happens in its own time. If your Lily truly loves you, she’ll understand why you left her behind. And somehow the two of you will find a way back to each other. You just have to believe it’s possible.”
Which was the crux of the matter, really.
With a nod, Bram squeezed Katherine’s hand, then turned to follow Ranald as he made his way down to the forecourt and the waiting men.
The battle was at hand.
After Duncreag and Dunbrae, the Comyn manor house was a disappointment. Not that it wasn’t amazing in its own right, but it lacked the ancient appeal of the two holdings, the one nothing but ruins, the other surviving almost intact.
Like most homes in this part of the world, it spoke to the generations, the harsh Georgian façade giving way to Elizabethan wings running both to the east and the west. Although Lily doubted the Scottish forbears would have described their homes based on English monarchs and their inspired architecture.
Ivy and small pink roses curled around the pillars set on both sides of the entrance, the ivy having jumped from column to wall, its fan of dark green plumage climbing upward, spreading until it covered a large part of the right side of the manor. It should have softened the sharp lines of the stone edifice, but somehow it only managed to add to the house’s grandeur.
“There’s nothing left of the original tower?” Lily asked as they walked up the steps to the massive front door. “I’d hoped…” She trailed off, not sure really what it was she wanted. Another flash of the past perhaps. Something to let her know with certainty that Bram was all right.
Despite her anger, she couldn’t stand the thought that he could be hurt. Or worse. She shook her head, the illogic of her thoughts threatening to swamp her emotions. Bram was dead. Alec was dead. All of them were dead.
She shivered, and Mrs. Abernathy laid a warm hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, lamb. You just have to keep going. One step at a time. We need to find the truth of what happened and once that’s accomplished, you’ll know what to do.”
Lily nodded, squeezing the older woman’s hand as Mrs. Abernathy pounded on the door. Lily fingered her father’s ring nervously. She’d left Bram’s brooch at Duncreag, fearful that even after all this time something so blatantly Macgillivray would hinder any connection she might establish with these modern day Comyns.
The ancient door swung open on surprisingly silent hinges. A small woman with graying hair and a cheerful smile ushered them both inside. “Good afternoon. I’m the housekeeper. Mrs. Potter. The mistress is expecting you,” she told Mrs. Abernathy, pausing to look back as Lily stepped across the threshold.
For a moment the woman stood, stunned, eyes wide as her gaze locked on Lily. She swallowed once, her hand clutching her throat, and then with a shake of her head, she looked away, motioning them forward. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect…” She trailed off on a sigh. “It’s just down the hallway. Second door on the right.”
“What in heaven’s name do you think that was all about?” Mrs. Abernathy asked.
“Maybe she’s seen pictures of me in the tabloids.” Lily shook her head. “My parents’ death and the subsequent discovery that they were insolvent has been fodder for weeks.”
“I suppose it’s possible.” Mrs. Abernathy nodded, her frown indicating that she wasn’t convinced. “Perhaps Mrs. Comyn will shed some light on the matter.”
