Eternal Lover. Lynsay Sands

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      “That Lady Margaret is a worse coward than I, and that be saying a lot,” muttered Nella as she sat before the fire in their bedchamber sewing a torn hem upon one of Sophie’s gowns. “I wonder she hasnae washed her eyeballs right out of their holes with all the weeping she does.”

      Sophie lightly grunted in agreement, never moving from the window she looked out of, or taking her gaze from the activity in the bailey. For the three days Lady Margaret had been at Nochdaidh, the girl had done little more than cry, swoon, or cower. Not one thing Sophie had said or tried had calmed the girl. At times, Sophie had wondered what possessed her to try to help a woman who would soon lay claim to the man Sophie herself wanted so badly. She just could not abide being around all that self-pity and abject fear. There were enough dark, somber feelings thickening the air at Nochdaidh without Lady Margaret adding more by the bucketful. That very morning Sophie had finally given up on trying to help the girl.

      “I tried to give the lass one of my amulets,” said Nella, “but she just sobbed and crossed herself.”

      “Ah, aye. Despite the denials of everyone at Nochdaidh, as weel as our own, Lady Margaret is certain we are witches.”

      “Such a fool.” Nella frowned at Sophie, set her mending down, and moved to stand beside her. “What is going on?”

      “The laird prepares to ride away to battle. He must fight the men who have been pillaging Sir Peter’s lands. A wedding gift, I suppose.”

      “I am sorry about that, m’lady,” Nella said quietly.

      “So am I, Nella.” Sophie sighed. “My anger has faded, but my unhappiness lingers. I have come to understand that Alpin believes he is doing what is best for me by pushing me away.”

      “’Tis best for ye to have your heart broken?”

      “So Alpin believes. He think ’tis easier for me now than if I stay at his side whilst the curse devours his soul.”

      “Mayhap he is right,” Nella whispered.

      “Nay. I believe I have finally figured out how to break this curse. ’Tisnae amulets, rowan branches, or potions that will save him. At best they but slow the change from mon to beast.”

      “Then what can save him, m’lady?”

      “Me.” She smiled briefly at an astonished Nella. “Aye, ’tis me. I am the key to unlock the prison of pain Rona built.”

      “I dinnae understand.”

      “Rona’s words were: ‘Thus it shall remain until one steps from the shadows of pride, land, and wealth and does as his heart commands. Until all that should have been finally is.’ Until MacCordy weds Galt, Nella. Until a MacCordy laird chooses love o’er profit.” Sophie shrugged. “That wouldnae have to be me in particular, but I begin to feel that that is how it has come to be. Alpin cares for me, of that I have no doubt. Yet he turns from that and goes to Margaret, who will bring him land and wealth. He may do so for verra noble reasons, but ’tis still the wrong choice. Again. ’Tis Ciar and Rona all over again. I fear that the curse will ne’er be broken if Alpin does marry Margaret.”

      “Then ye must tell him. Wheesht, ye have wealth and land aplenty, too, if that is what the mon seeks.”

      Sophie shook her head. “He willnae heed me. Alpin denies there is a curse at work here, e’en though, deep in his heart, I think he kens the truth. He willnae allow me to enter what he sees as his private hell, to share in his damnation. And if I tell him of my wealth to make him choose me, will the fact that his heart welcomes that choice end the curse, or will it become just another choice of wealth and land? I dare not risk it, for I truly believe he must choose between wealth and love, turning away from one to embrace the other.”

      “It makes sense, yet how can a curse tell the difference? It has no thoughts or feelings.”

      “Something keeps it alive, year after year. Something keeps each MacCordy laird alive, keeps them breeding that heir to carry on the curse, and something keeps killing the love in the hearts of the men chosen by each daughter of Rona’s bloodline. I dinnae understand how, just that this curse somehow keeps itself alive and will continue to do so unless Rona’s demand is met.”

      “So what can ye do?”

      “Weel, I have a wee bit more than a week to make Alpin love me enough to want me to stay.”

      “Aye. Unless, of course, he already loves ye and that is why he will make ye leave.”

      “That is the dilemma I face, aye. Not an easy knot to untangle.”

      Nella stared down into the bailey. “What is that strange cart? Do ye ken, it looks a wee bit like a coffin on wheels.”