Page 38 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Elle let out a deep sigh. She had to get this over with. And leave. Because all she kept thinking about was how handsome he was. How much she loved him and wanted to kiss him. What it would be like to live out her days with him. To convince him that they were right for each other.
Elle cleared her throat. “When my father, Padrig, was here, he and your father became close confidants. That, despite the fact that he’d once been found raiding on your lands and your father took him prisoner. Then he eventually was made an indentured servant. Padrig watched as your mother lost bairn after bairn. Then one night, while your mother was taking a walk to ease her labor pains that she’d kept hidden, she fell down in the gardens, unable to move, her labor starting in earnest. My father happened to be fixing part of the wall and stopped to see if she was all right. She grabbed hold of his arm and begged him to help her, telling him that the bairn was nearly all the way born. Nervous, but unable to do anything but help, my father found Erik was, indeed, nearly born. The head was delivered, shoulders, and the rest of his body soon slithering out onto the garden floor.” Elle paused, checking Beiste’s features, trying to gauge his reaction.
He was stunned, rigid. His lips clamped.
“Father picked him up, wrapping him in the extra length of his plaid. Erik looked right up into his eyes and let out a healthy wail. Not something the previous bairns had the strength to summon. Your mother begged him to take the bairn away. To raise him away from the curse of the castle.”
“My curse,” Beiste growled.
Elle shook her head. “Nay. Ye were not the first born to them. Your parents thought when ye survived ye were the breaker of curses. They tried for more children, but it seemed ye were a gift, and then Erik, too.”
“And he was raised all this time without my knowing.”
“Aye.” She licked her lips. “Your father agreed with your mother’s wishes and gifted Padrig Castle Gloom. My mother and I were summoned from Ireland to live with my father.”
“Ye were not here before?”
Elle shook her head. “My father had come over to Scotland during a raid and never returned. Mother had long thought him dead. She gave birth to me just before he left. Gone for ten long years before she had a word. My mother fought all those years to keep herself in my father’s homeland. Bjork believed her to be a traitor, that she was owed to him as a wife, and then subsequently myself.”
Beiste briefly touched her face, emotions she couldn’t comprehend showing in his eyes. “Thank God that bastard is gone from your life.” He blew out a heavy breath, his hand falling. “Saints, but I have a brother.”
Elle laughed softly. “Aye.”
“And that is why my father gave Erik the sword.”
“Mhmm. So he’d know it was the truth.”
Beiste scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ye have given me a great gift.”
Elle’s throat tightened so much that she couldn’t speak. But she summoned the strength to whisper. “I’d have given ye more.”
Beiste’s face contorted slightly, pinching, as though he held back a flood of emotion. “I’ve been a fool. A terrible beast.”
Elle smoothed out her skirts, wanting to back away. To run.
“I threw away the other precious gift ye gave me. Even when I wanted it. I didna think I deserved it. Didna think if I accepted it that I could keep ye safe.”
“What gift?” she asked, tears stinging her eyes. It couldn’t be what she hoped it was.
“Love.”
Oh, zounds! Her heart pounded, near to exploding. “Ye canna throw away a person’s feelings. They are still here, right out in the open. All ye have to do is accept them.”
He marched toward her, covering the ground between them in a few strides. “I want to. I do.” Beiste clutched her up in his arms, holding her tight. “I love ye, lass. With all my heart and soul and being. I feared for ye. Feared that if I loved ye, if I accepted your love in return, that something would happen to ye.”
“My fate is already sealed. And so is yours.”
“What fate is that?”
Elle stared into his eyes, not daring to tell him about becoming aglaistigupon her death. Instead, she said, “That we two should be together. It was destined to be.”
“Aye.” He smoothed a thumb over her cheek. “I love ye. I want ye to be my wife. Will ye do me the honor of marrying this fool? This beast?”
“Nay. I will not marry a fool or a beast.” She smiled and tickled his ribs. “But I will marryye, Beiste MacDougall, the most kind, daring and resilient man that I know.”
And then he kissed her hard, both of their emotions spilling out into that meeting of mouths. Their bodies clashed together and when he swept her up into his arms, carrying her through his study and into a bedchamber, Elle didn’t stop him. This was her love. This was the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. A man she’d create children with.
And then she knew. Her fate as theglaistigwas not a curse—but a blessing, because she’d be able to watch over her children, her grandchildren, and every generation to come.Herpeople.Herblood. Beiste’s blood.Theirblood.
