Page 56 of A Laird and a Gentleman

Mariam wrapped her fingers around the shell at her neck. “The night before you . . . left.”

Nessie nodded, her expression serious. “I knew he would try to kill me and I wanted to leave you with some protection. The shell, and the magic it contains, protected you. It did not stop his abuse, but he could never go so far as to kill you, at least not until it broke and the magic disappeared.”

“Why didn’t you reveal yourself to me when you first came to Ravenscraig? I needed a mother,” Mariam said, reeling from shock and wonder and anger. “I spent fourteen years alone with that man. Tormented. Afraid. I mourned you when you left. I cried and cried until he beat the last tears out of me.”

Her mother winced and dropped her gaze to her feet. “It took years for me to heal. And then once I did, I was frightened to reveal myself. My magic healed me, but I could not use it against that man or everything in me would have shifted from white magic to black.”

“I didn’t want your magic.” The confession caught in Mariam’s throat. “I wanted a mother.”

Her mother looked up. Pain reflected in her gaze—pain Mariam knew all too well.

“What eventually brought you back to me?”

“When the king placed you in the care of Cameron Sinclair, I could no longer stay away.” Her mother reached out, taking Mariam’s hand from the shell into her own. “I don’t ask you to forgive me. I only hope that someday you will understand. I could be your servant, your champion, your friend, and now your guide, but I was never meant to be your mother ever again.”

Mariam shivered.

Her mother offered her a soft smile. “You have become the woman you are today because of the adversity you suffered. That suffering is at the core of our calling. We are goddesses of nature, descended from Brānwen and the house of Llyr, the daughter of the sea god Manannán. It is our destiny to release mistreated women and men from bondage and bless them with new beginnings.”

“What about me? I wanted a new beginning. Or didn’t that matter to you or our ancestors?”

“The ancestors are here to help you now, to guide you. That’s why you had to come to the isle.”

Mariam pulled away from both her mother and Cameron to scrub her hands up and down her arms, not knowing what to believe as another shiver coursed through her. In the torchlight, the black metal of the cauldron gleamed, and in the silence, Mariam could almost hear the heartbeats of her long-dead ancestors encouraging her to let go of her fear and her anger and embrace the task at hand.

As she looked down at the eight urns, something inside her leapt to life. Not just the desire, but the need to return some light to the world that had suddenly been pitched into darkness. She was connected to these ancient ones—eight urns, meaning eight ancestors. Her mother was not here with the others because she left the isle, but she would have been the ninth. And Mariam, as her daughter, was the fulfillment of the legend. Was her mother right? Had she needed to experience suffering of her own in order to bring her to this moment? The physical scars of her father’s abuse were slowly fading. Were the scars on her soul fading as well because of Cameron?

Mariam lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes misted with tears at the love and caring reflected in the gray depths. She swallowed back the lump that rose in her throat. For years she had hidden herself away from others, fearing not only that she was somehow damaged, but also that her father’s cruelty would spill over into her own actions. She’d kept herself hidden away, cloaked in darkness to keep the sunlight at bay.

Mariam stared at the man before her, feeling dazed by both his presence and the words he had said to her only moments ago. You are my heart. His words had filled her with a bright light that had nothing to do with magic—and yet, they were the most magical expression of love she had ever heard. With the expectation of nothing in return, he offered her the warmth and the security she’d sought all her life and never expected to find. And without her mother’s absence in her life, she never would have ended up at Ravenscraig. She never would have met Cameron. Everything would have been different.

She didn’t want different. She wanted what she had now—in this moment with this man and her mother—light and warmth and love.

“Mariam, I am sorry,” her mother said, her voice edged with sorrow. “I didn’t realize how deeply I hurt you by keeping myself hidden away. Can you ever forgive me?”

At the pain in her mother’s voice, all of Mariam’s resentments faded away. “There is nothing to forgive, Mother. You are right. I am who I am because of my past. It is the search for my past, my present, and my future that brought me here to this moment. And now it is both you and I—along with our ancestors—who will free those who are suffering. It is our duty and our purpose in this life.”

“You remember.” The words were filled with awe.

Mariam shook her head. “Not all of it, but enough to know that in order to get started we must move the urns and the cauldron out into the moonlight.”

It didn’t take long to move the urns out of the cairn. The cauldron, however, proved to be much more difficult. It was too massive for Cameron to lift on his own, and even with the women helping, they barely shifted it.

Her mother collapsed against the side of the cauldron, trying to regain her strength. “It would be easier to move the rocks of the cairn to expose the cauldron to the night than to move something that weighs more than a mountain.”

“How are we to do that?” Mariam asked from the opposite side of the cauldron.

“With magic,” her mother said straightening. “My magic controls the waves. Yours the wind. So, in order to keep us all from drowning, I suggest you summon the wind.”

“How?”

“Call the wind to you. Feel it rise inside you as you stretch out your hands. Once you have the will of the wind, you can direct it to do whatever you choose. Now that you are at the seat of your power, you will feel stronger than ever before.”

Mariam nodded, remembering the feeling of harnessing the wind from her earlier attempts. But having more power behind her magic might be dangerous. “Both of you should wait outside. I do not wish to harm either of you if something goes wrong and the roof collapses instead.”

Cameron looked as though he might object, but then he nodded. “Since our time grows short, and if that is the only way, then so be it.” He took her mother’s arm, leading her toward the entrance of the cairn. “We will be right outside if you need us.”

When she finally stood in the chamber alone, Mariam lifted her hands toward the doorway. She drew a breath in silent encouragement, then in her mind she focused on the wind until she could feel it rushing past her, swirling around her, filling her with its power. She drew strength and breath from the element of nature until it became a part of her. Her heartbeat leapt as the wind swirled around her, waiting to do as she commanded.